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"And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, 
having the everlusting Gospel to preach unto iliera that 
dwell on the earth, and to everv nation, and kindred, and 
tongue, and people, Saying, with a loud voice. Fear Ciod and 
give glory to Him, for the hour of His judgment is come." 

JoHX, the Revelator. 

"He that judgeth a matter before he heareth it, is un- 
wise." SOLOMOX. 


-VOX^. II. 










The Hypocrite and the 





The Ultimatum of Hu- 

The Champion - 


man L.ife 


The God I Worship - 


The Past Year - 


Our Religion 


^-k^atever Is, is Right 


To Be^or Not to Be - 


My Bankrupt Bill 


*JiVhat is, and what is 



not for Woman - 




The Grave 




--^he Tattler - 


The Grand Conquest - 


Hints at Matters of Fact 

Nationality - 


in Utah 


The Hopes of HeaveTi - 


How '70 leaves us and 

To a Btran_^er 


how '71 finds us - 




Ourselves and our Ene- 

Narcissa to Narcissus 


mies - - - 


To a Young Saint 


A Voice from Utah 


The Hei-o's Reward - 


The Kingdom of God 


The Day is "Dawning - 


The Fountain and 

The Lamanite 


Streams of Life - 


The Thoughts of Home 


I am Thy Child - 


My Own— My Country's 

Man capable of Higher 





Ode to Liberty 


Life's Compounds - 


The Year has Gone 


Whom I Pity 


Peace in the States - 


TheYearl872 - 


1 1 





Florence - 


Retirement - 


At the Sea of Galilee 






A Winter Soliloquy - 


The Ship 


My Epitaph 


My Country-A Lamen- 

Our Nation 




- To— She knows Who - 


The Fathers 


To Mrs. 


Address for the 24th of 

To Mrs. H. Gray, N. H. 




To a Philanthropist 


Good Society - 


The Ladies of Utah to 



the Ladies in General 

Jubilee Poem 


Johnston's Expedi- 

Song of a Missionary's 

tion agaiost the "Mor- 



mons," when his ar- 

Annie's Sympathy 


my was encamped on 

Angel Whisperings - 


Ham's Fork, near 

My Father Dear - 


Fort Bridger 


Santa Claus - 


Crossing the Atlantic 


Address to Parents 




In Memoriam— 

Apostrophe to Jerusa- 

My Sister 


lem - - - 


Willard Richards - 


Personification, in Five 

Jedediah M. Grant - 


Chapters — Introduc- 

Heber C. Kimball - 




George A. Smith 


Chapter First 




Chapter Second - 


Alice - 


Chapter Third 




Chapter Fourth - 


Woman - - - 


Chapter Fifth 


One of Time's Changes 


Funeral ot President 

! Temple Song 


Brigham Young - 





President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 

Servant of God, most honor'd— most belov'd: 
By Him appointed and of Him approv^'d. 
Prophet and Seer — You stand as Moses stood, 
Between the people and the living God. 

All human wisdom and all human skill 
Could never qualify you, thus, to fill 
The place you occupy: nor could you bear 
Thro' human aid, the weight of duties there. 

» » * 5? 

yrhe world was cloth'd in deep impervious gloom. 
Like death's dark shadows mantling o'er the tomb 
A cleric intl'ence truth and falsehood blended 
And over Christendom its cords extended.V 

The heavens were closed — no angel-form appear'd 
No heav'nly visions human optics cheer'd: 
From God, his children, so estrang'd had grown, 
His voice for centuries, they had not known. 

At length He spoke. Who? Father? Yes, He 

To Joseph Smith, and long, long silence broke — 
Announc'd to him the work that must be done, 
And thus the Dispensation was begun. 

Call'd singly to confront the world in youth, 
Joseph was firm and valiant in the truth — 
The tide of sin and unbelief withstood, 
And seaPd his testimony with his blood. 

With God's own spirit — with His wisdom rife, 
He chang'd the current of the stream of life — 
Plac'd a bold veto on its ebbing tide 
And caus'd the ship of life to upward ride. 
* * * * 

Joseph was slain: his mantle fell on you — 
Th' eternal spirit rested on you too, 
Diffusing light and knowledge round about — 
'Tis in you like a fountain flowing out. 

Above all pow'rs upon the earth, you have 
The keys to govern and the keys to save — 
To save frojn ignorance, folly, and distress, 
And lead mankind to God and happiness. 

Happy that I'm permitted so to do, 
I dedicate this Volume unto you; 
With one desire prevailing in my breast. 
That U7ito others^ good it may be blest. 

I fondly hope aud trust it may iuipait 
Light to the mind or solace to the heart, 
And like '"the widow's mite," an offring prove, 
Welconi'd by saints — approv'd of God above. 


Why should we grasp the shadow, 
And let the substance faU? 

Why do we leave the honey, 
And fill our cups with gall? 

Why scorn the lovely violet, 
And pluck the prickly pear? 

And why select the thistle. 
While roses flourish there? 

Why do we swallow poison. 
And call the poison good; 

And not refresh the stomach, 
With pure and wholesome food? 

Why choose the midnight darkness, 

In pref'rence to the day? 
Why glut our minds with falsehood. 

And thrust the truth away? 


"\Vliy in their sin and folly, 
Will people choose to die, 

When God extends salvation 
In fulness, from on high? 

'Tis blindness — O, 'tis blindness. 

That shrouds the human mind- 
That mantles o'er the judgment, 
And wraps the senses blind. 

How long Avill Adam's children, 
By Satan's pow'r be led? 

How long, degeneration, 
Control the path we tread? 

Until the chains are broken — 
Th' oppressive chains that bind; 

Till man regains his freedom — 
The freedom of the mind. 

Then A\all the Holy Priesthood, 

Diffuse its light abroad; 
And lead man safely upward. 

To nature and to God. 



The snn had set, and t^vilight's shady mood 

Spread a brown halo— ting'd the solitude. 

As days last glimmer flitted down the west; 

Life's stirring scenes demurely sank to rest — 

Soft silence lent its contemplative charm, 

And all conspir'd the mental pulse to warm — 

From world to world, imagination Avander'd, 

While thought, the present, past, and future ponder'd. 

As I was musing with desire intense 

That some kind guardian angel might dispense 

Instruction; lo! a seraph-form appeared — 

His look — his voice my anxious spirit cheer'd. 

It w^as the Priesthood — he who holds the key 

T' unlock the portals of Eternity; 

And with o'erflowing heart, I took my seat, 

An enter'd student at th' Instructor's feet. 

" What would'st thou me? " The seraph gently said: 
"Tell me, and wherefore hast thou sought my aid? " 

I then replied: Long, long I've wish'd to know 
What is the cause of suflPring here below — 
What the result of human life will bo — 
Its ultimatum in Eternitv. 



With deep, attentive mind — with list'ning ear, 

I Avatch'd and waited ev'ry word to hear; 

As thus he said: 'Tis not for you to pry 

Into the secrets of the worlds on high — 

To seek to know the tirst, the moving Cause, 

Councils, decrees, organizations, laws — 

Form'd by the Gods, pertaining to this earth, 

Ere your great Father from their courts came forth, 

The routine of his ancestors to tread— 

Of this new world, to stand the royal head. 

The more immediate cause of all the woo 
And degradation in your world below. 
Is disobedience: Sorrow, toil and pain, 
With their associates, follow in its train. 

This life's an ordeal, and design'd to prove 
Fraternal kindness and parental love. 
Earth is your Father's workshop: What is done- 
All that's attain'd, and what achievements won. 
Is for the Parents: All things are their own — 
The children now hold nothing but by loan. 
Whatever some may claim in proud pretense; 
No one has yet obtain 'd inheritance; 
E'en Abraham has no possession gain'd 
Of what by promise he thro' faith obtained: 
And all that greedy hands accumulate, 
Is yet the Father's, not the child's estate. 
Then shame, O shame, on all the strife you see 
Here in the cradle of life's nursery — 
The green-ey'd jealousies — the frosty hate 
Which carnal, avaricious thoughts create! 

How vain that phantom of mortality, 

The mimic-form of human dignity! 

'Tis soon enough for infant lips to talk 

Of pow'r and greatness, when they've strength to 

walk — 
'Tis soon enough for children to be great, 
When they can boast a self-possess'd estate. 

It will not matter whatsoe'er is gained, 
Or what on earth may seem to be obtained; 
But 'tis important that each one prepare 
To be with Christ, a joint, an equal heir: 
Faith, and obedience, and integrity. 
Will the grand test of future heirship, be. 
If true and faithful to the Father's will, 
It matters not what station here you fill; 
As you prepare yourself on earth, will be 
Your place, your portion in eternity. 

As disobedience fill'd the world with pain. 
Obedience will restore it back again. 
The base perversions of my pow'r produce 
All the strong engines satan has in use; 
And qualify the sons of men to dwell 
With his dark majesty, the prince of hell. 
All that obey the pow'rs of darkness go 
With those they follow — to the world below. 
Then list to me — my precepts all obey — 
The Gods have sent me in this latter-day, 
Fully couimissioned upward all to lead. 
Who will my counsels and instructions heed — 

Who seek in ev'ry ckcumstance and place, 

To benefit and bless the human race— 

Who seek their Father's interests to enhance— 

His glorious cause upon the earth advance: 

Whether below, they much or little claim. 

If they exalt and magnify his name; 

And in his service labor faithfully, 

They'll have a fullness in his legacy. 

Each faithful saint is an acknowledg'd heir, 

And as his diligence, will be his share. 

When God a patrimony shall bestow 

Upon his sons and daughters here below. 

Adam, your God, like you on earth, has been 
Subject to sorrow in a world of sin: 
Through long gradation he arose to be 
Cloth 'd with the Godhead's might and majesty. 
And what to him in his probative sphere, 
Whether a Bishop, Deacon, Priest, or Seer? 
Whate'er his offices and callings were. 
He magnified them Avith assiduous care: 
By his obedience he obtain 'd the place 
Of God and Father of this human race. 

Obedience will the same bright garland weave. 
As it has done for your great Mother, Eve, 
For all her daughters on the earth, who will 
All my requirements sacredly fulfill. 
And what to Eve, though in her mortal life. 
She'd been the first, the tenth, or fiftieth wife? 
What did she care, when in her lowest state, 
Whether by fools, consider'd small, or great? 


'Twas all the same with her—she prov'd her worth- 
She's now the Goddess and the Queen of Earth. 

I.ife's ultimatum, unto those that live 
As saints of God, and all my pow'rs receive; 
Is still the onward, upward course to tread- 
To stand as Adam and as Eve, the head 
Of an inheritance, a new-form'd earth. 
And to their spirit-race, give mortal birth- 
Give them experience in a world like this; 
Then lead them forth to everlasting bliss, 
Crown'd with salvation and eternal joy 
Where full perfection dwells, without alloy. 

Thus said the Seraph. — Sacred in my heart 

I cherish all his precious words impart; 

And humbly pray, I ever may, as now. 

With holy def'rence in his presence bow. 

The field of thought he open'd to my view, 

My wonder rous'd— my admiration too: 

I marvel'd at the silly childishness 

Of saints, the heii'S of everlasting bliss. 

The candidates for Godheads and for worlds. 

As onward time, eternities unfurls. 

I felt my littleness, and thought, henceforth 

I'll be myself, the humblest saint on earth; 

And all that God shall to my care assign, 

I'll recognize and use "as his, not mine. 

Wherever he appoints to me a place. 

That will I seek, Avith diligence, to grace; 

And for ray Parents, whatsoe'er my lot. 

To work with all my might, and murmur not. 


I'll seek their interest, till they send or come, 
And as a faithful daughter take me home. 

As thus I mus'd, the lovely queen of night, 
'Meath heav'n's blue canopy, diffus'd her light: 
Still brighter beams o'er earth's horizon play — 
A cheering prelude to approaching day. 
When truth's full glory will o'erspread the skies, 
And the bright "Sun of Righteousness" arise. 


A Year! What is a Year? 'Tis but a link 
In the grand chain of Time, extending from 
The earth's formation, to the period when 
An angel standing in the sun, shall swear 
'The chain is finish'd — Time shall be no more.' 
Then, by the pow'r of faith, that pow'r by Avhich 
The great Jehovah spake and it was done. 
And nature mov'd subservient to his will; 
Earth leaves the orbit where her days and nights 
And years and ages, have been measur'd long. 
By revolution's fix'd, unchanging laws. 
And upward journies to her native home. 


Where is the Year? Envelop'd in the past, 
With all its scenes and all its sceneries 
Upon its bosom laid. The Year has gone 
To join in fellowship with all the years 
Before and since the flood: leaving behind 
A train of consequences — those effects, 
Which, like a fond, paternal legacy 
That firmly binds with int'rest, kin to kin; 
Unite the future, present, and the past. 

The Year is gone. Xone but Omnipotence 

Can weigh it in the balance, and define 

The good and evil mingled in its form. 

None but an Omnij^resent eye can \-iew 

The fountains and the springs of joy and grief- 

Of pain and pleasure, which, within its course, 

It open'd up and caus'd to flow thro'out 

The broad variety of human life. 

None else is able to explore the length 

And breadth — to fathom the abysses, and 

To pry into the cloister'd avenues 

Of this life's sceneries, and testify, 

Or count the seeds of bitterness which yield 

Baneful efflu\'ia ; proving when infus'd 

Into society, its deadliest curse: 

Or number the bright rays of hapi^iness, 

Whether in sunbeams written, or defin'd 

By those soft, mellow pencilings of light. 

Whose lack of dazzling brilliancy, is more 

Than compensated by their constancy 

In ev'ry-day attendance: little joys, 

Which shed a soothing infl'ence on the heart. 

12 POEM8. 

Yet imperceptibly— by babit made to 
More like appendages, than gifts bestow'd. 

But who, with common-sense, and eye unclos'd- 

With sensibility enough to keep 

The heart alive — with warmth enough to give 

An elasticity to half its strings; 

But finds inscrib'd upon the tablet of 

The memory, a reminiscence of 

The Year departed, deeply written there 

In characters that stand in bold relief; 

And more especially in these last days. 

When Nature, seeming (conscious that her time 

Of dissolution is approaching, hastes 

With all the rude impetuosity 

Of the tumultuous hurricane; to close 

Her labors. 

Ev'ry spirit is arous'd. 
Both good and bad — each to its handy work; 
Diffusing in the walks c)f social life. 
Their honey and their gall: Each heart imbibes 
That whicli is most congenial to its own 
Inherent qualities of character; 
Of which a full development is wrought 
By the effective hand of circumstance. 

A few more years of hurried scenery 

Will tell the tale — the present drama close — 

Decide the destiny of multitudes, 

And bring this generation to the point 

Where Time, extending to its utmoust bound, 

Will tread the threshhold of Eternity. 



Wfiatever is, is Hght; but then, 

All axioms receiv'd, 
Require some certain principles 

On which to be believ'd. 

With good and evil — rigiit and wrong, 

This present world is rife — 
Right is not wrong — wrong is not right, 

In any form of life. 
If there are given rules by which 

Good is from evil made; 
'Tis well for ev'ry saint of God 

To understand the trade. 
To all who love, and practice wrong, 

Wrong is forever ^vTong; 
While unto those who practice right, 

Right will be right as long: 
But ev'ry wrong will be o'erruled, 

Resulting for the best 
To those who in life's furnaces 

Stand ev'ry trying test. 

Had not Missouri, in her spite 

And hatred, driv'n us forth; 
The .sound of truth would not have spread 

So widely o'er the earth. 


When in Nauvoo, we were beset 

AVith foes on ev'ry side— 
The church was grievouslj'' opprest — 

Our Prophet crucified! 
Surrounded by a murd'rous brood 

Nurs'd in corruptioji's nest, 
The vilest offspring of the vile 

Of Satan's soul possess'd: 
In spite of all their hatefulness, 

Diffusing death and thrall; 
We, clinging to our rightful homes — 

Our lands — our earthly all; 
Might have remain'd, and struggled on: 

They thrust us out — we come 
And found a peaceful resting place 

In this wild mountain home. 
To those that play'd a treacherous part. 

That is an evil day; 
And they and theirs wiU feel the smart 

When time has pass'd aM^ay. 

W^e've here a better Government, 

And more of safety too. 
Than we experienc'd in our own. 

Once beautiful Nauvoo. 
prhus God wiU use the wickedness 

And aU the wrath of man. 
To magnify his holy name, 

And execute his plans: 
All evil purposes and schemes. 

His wisdom wiU o'errule- 


And make of each of satan's imps, 

Though vile, a useful tool. 
For fancy work and finishings. 

The polisli'd tools will do; 
But God wants sledges, threshing-flails, 

And battle-axes too. 
And when we love and do his will 

With aU our mind and might; 
The lamp of Ufe, his spirit's glow, 

Will show that all is right- 
That ev'ry sufl'ring— ev'ry ill. 

And all the foes we meet. 
Will serve our interest in the end, 

To make our joys complete. 
Offences must needs come, 'tis said; 

We also further know, 
There is on them by whom they come, 

Pronounc'd a fearful woe. 

If we are cloth 'd with innocence, 

And to our cov'nantstrue; 
What though we suffer for the wrongs 

The evil-minded do? 
The time will surely come, when those 

Who've cheated in life's play; 
Will find they shake an empty purse. 

And yet the Bill to payj 

Whene'er we feel chastisement's rod 
For wrongs ourselves have done; 

We're taught our conduct to improve 
And future ills to shun; 


As if the shades of darkness were 

Converted into light; 
Through reformation's handy work, 

Wrong may conduce to right. 
For here, had plenty's ceaseless board. 

Without a care, been spread; 
Who would have own'd the Giver's hand. 

Or known the worth of bread? 
How many would, as saviors, here 

With wheat their garners stor'd, 
Ere famine's cup of bitterness 

Is on the nations pour'd? 
But when pale hunger's meagre hand 

Is on the stomach laid; 
The blind discern the pencil-lin-es 

By wisdom's finger made. 

Our father Adam broke the law 

His father gave, and thus 
That blind-fold thing, degeneracy. 

Has travel'd down to us. 

The Savior's pity mov'd:— he came— 

Up to the courts of day, 
While all the troops of darkness storm 'd. 

He stoop'd to mark the way: 
And through the curse, with all its ills— 

With death and sorrow rife; 
He grants to those who follow him. 

The pow'rs of endless life: 
And he has given a perfect law— 

When walking in its light; 

As saints of God, we understand, 
IVhatever is, is right. 

That dark, dark cloud call'd ignorance, 

Whicii veils the huni:in mind: 
Has clogg'd the springs of common sense. 

And press'd the judgment blind. 
He, who calls forth the light of day 

From crude, commingling gloom, 
And bright celestial rollmg spheres, 

From chaos' op'ning womb — 
Who built the pillars of the sky — 

Who counts the hosts of heav'n; 
Holds ev'ry key and instrument, 

By which results are giv'n. 

When we, through fear of coming ilh 

His providence distrust; 
We sit in judgment on his hand, 

And deem his ways unjust. 
Should aught exist, from which his skill 

Can nothing good produce; 
That is a wrong without a right— 

A thing without a use: 
But who indulge the thought? And who, 

Would impudently dare 
Impeach the high imperial court, 

Or charge a failure there ? 

Altho' the links are intricate— 

Though long may be the chain- 
Though Gordian knots with us occur; 
With God all things are plain. 


'Tis not for us to rule the storm, 

OrZion's bark to steer; 
With our own duties well perform'd, 

We've nothing more to fear: 
What should we fear? Who guides the ship ': 

None but Eternal Might: 
Father himself is at the helm: 

Whatever is, is Hght 


I know, some critics have pronounc'd it w^eak 
Of one's own self, to freely write or speak. 

I court no critic's censure, yet I will 
Take, for my subject, my own bankrupt BUI. 
To have no money, surely is no crime. 
But I contracted debt, without a dime; 
Which, I acknowledge frankly, should not be. 
And I'll henceforth avoid insolvency. 

'Neath the perverted scepter Mammon wields, 
Virtue and truth, to gold's base influence yield: 
Men are respected if in gold they're wealthy, 
Whether they gam'd it honestly or stealthy 

Not so in Zion-works, and faith sincere 
Preponderate o'er filthy lucre here: 

POEMS. 19 

Unyielding virtue, firm integrity, 

Love for the Priesthood, careful industiy, 

In the true Mint of heav'n, will pass for more 

Than all on earth that's coined from shining ore. 

'Tis true, we all may many wants endure, 
But then, a saint of God is never poor; 
One in whose soul the holy fire of God, 
The light of truth, is richly shed abroad. 

What though he cannot claiixi one foot of land, 
Nor yet one dime of currency command? 
Altho' no gold and silver — he has got 
A costly pearl, the purse-proud world has not. 

The peace of God abiding in the breast — 
The heav'nly foretaste of a glorious rest. 
With pow'r, the gift of endless lives, to gain- 
Henceforth our own identity retain. 
Is wealth, and wealth that holds a promise, rife 
With every comfort that pertains to life. 

That very gold the gentiles madly crave 
Will yet, our streets, the streets of Zion, pave. 

Why should we then, call gold and silver wealth? 
We might as well, call food and clothing health; 
Brain, bone and sinew, here, are prov'd to be 
Both capital and lawful currency. 
Be as it may be elsewhere, here, with us, 
Worth is not reckon'd by the weight of parse: 
In Babylon, where money is the test, 
He who has most, is honor'd as the best, 
Or, rather he who vainly seems to have. 
And oft, he's honor'd most, who's most a knave. 



Show me a saint that's poor and, once for aU, 
I'll show you one that is no saint at all; 
He may be moneyless— Who has not been? 
That, here, is neither poverty nor sin. 
Leanness of soul and meagerness of thought— 
A cherish'd barrenness of mind, is what 
I should call poverty, and even worse 
Than Mammon's voL'ries think an empty purse. 

Methinks I hear one softly whisper, 'Hush! 
To say you have no money, makes me blush,' 
I have no money: blush again. With me 
That kind of blushing is hypocrisy. 
Crime, wickedness and folly bring disgrace — 
For these, should blushes mantle o'er the face; 
And many, many things afifright me worse 
Than the appearance of an empty purse. 

I boast of wealth, and richer streams than flow 
From the most fruitful sources here below. 
'Tis not the wealth that stimulates with pride— 
'Tis wealth that will eternally abide: 
If I in faithfulness and patience wait, 
I'll hold an heirship in a God's estate; 
And even now, I'm richer, wealthier far, 
Than all who bend o'er Mammon's coffers, are. 

Who are my friends? Those are my friends, I trast, 
Whom I esteem wise, noble, good and just; 
As such, each one, I estimate a treasure: 
In friendship then I'm rich, in ample measure. 


Who are my kindred? All the truly good 
Who've in the holy cov'nants, faithful stood; 
My kindred then are of the royal line. 
And each can claim an origin divine. 

Who is my Brother? Israel's Holy One- 
According to the tiesh, God's only Son: 
He holds the birth-right in elieruity — 
Thro' Him the heirship will descend to me. 

My Father's rich — I am his lawful child; 
Not one by silly, fond caressing, spoil'd; 
I've through bereavement — not indulgence, grov.n 
In strength, (tho' woman never stands alone.) 

Who is my Father? One that's wise and great, 
A millionare of well possessed estate. 
Who is my Father? Does he dwell below? 
Is he a worldly potentate? O no: 

j All earthly tilings must perish — crowns will rust. 

I While thrones and monarchs moulder into dust. 
Who is my Father? Endless is His name- 
He is the Eternal God, the Great I AM. 

And in conclusion, I am fain to say, 
Create no bills beyond your means to pay; 
To live within your income thus, will spare 
You many a festering thought and servile care. 
And to the young, I'll give a key, whereby, 
All future wants and wishes, to supply. 
Control yourselves — your passions well restrain- 
Scorn tQ want every thing you can't obtain, 


Then ask no odds of circumstances— be 

Faithful in duties, and in feelings, free. 

You'll thus create your heav'ns where'er you dwell- 

" To want to be, or do, and can't, is hell." 

Prov'd or not prov'd, this axiom is sure— 
A real saint of God is never poor. 


The storm is past: all nature is. serene: 
How clear the sunshine, and how calm the scene! 

The hurricane is over: soft and low 
As music's whisper, gentle zephyrs blow: 
The tuneful songsters chant their joyous lay, 
And rose-cheek' d cherubs on the terrace play. 

The cataract lias ceased, and all is still, 
Save the low murmur of the purling nil. 

The earthquake past that threaten'd to destroy; 
Each bosom swells with gratitude and joy. 
The angry waves recede: along the shore 
Sweet bugle notes chime with the boatman's oar. 

When raging wars, their fierce dread clamor, cease, 
How grateful comes the gentle voice of peace. 

To vet'ran warriors from the battlefield, 
What sacred pleasures home and fireside yield. 


Turmoil and labor, relish give to rest, 
And make retirement oft a rich behest; 
And after wild confusion takes a fill, 
Sweet harmony seems more harmonious still. 

Much, much is learned by contrast. Who would 
To prize a friend, who never had a foe? 
Without the wrong, who could adjudge the right? 
Without the darkness, how distinguish light? 
Without the bitter, who would relish sweet? 
If friends ne'er parted, say if friends could meet. 
We learn in sickness how to value health — 
Through poverty, the benefits of wealth. 
How better prove pure wheat than to compare 
The genuine kernel with the spurious tare? 

The school of God impresses lessons well: 
In which the students learn to read and spell — 
Learn how to appreciate all and ev'ry good, 
As hunger gives an appetite for food. 

Ask Israel's Elders who go forth to preach. 
To all — ^to every nation, grade and speech: 
When far from all on earth you dearly prize — 
Far, far from home and all its tender ties — 
Exposed to hatred, malice, scoff and scorn, 
Where vice is nourished and tradition bom — 
Where sin, contagious with the blight of death, 
Enters the life-blood and pollutes the breath! 
Strange, among strangers, and at times, unblest 
With shelter, food or drink or where to rest. 


Then <Aere— altbo' to your high callings true; 
You think of home: you learn to pHze it too. 

All things existing, will to good conduce, 
When well applied, and to their proper use, 
And all subserve our prolit, when we know 
Their adapiion— ?<^Aaf, luhcn, ivhere and how. 

We're here to learn— to suflfer and to rise: 
Without experience Gods would be unwise: 


Yes Immortality: That bosom word, 
To me, ha^ inspiration in it. Love 
Of life, is innate in the human soul: 
'Tis interwoven in our natures. 'Twas 
Decreed in the grand council of the Gods, 
When canvassing the great eternal scheme 
Cencerning destinies of man and earth; 
That mankind should inherit love of life; 
Else, man, grown weary of a woild of woes 
And fickle tides of happiness, would haste 
To make his exit, and e'en God Himself 
Had fail'd to keep enough, as instruments, 
On earth, to execute His purposes. 

Thus death, the happy counterpoise to life, 
Has long been branded with fell hideousness— 
False-styled "the king of terrrors," "monster, fiend," 
"Insatiate archer" and whole catalogues 
Of horrid names; to form a barrier 
Of fear, lest man, with suicidal hand. 
Should clip the brittle thi;ead of life, and rush 
In multitudes, into eternity. 

"Christcame, them to redeem, who, thro' the fear 
Of death, were all their life time subject to 
Its bondage." To the faithful Saints of God, 
Who live to do His will, death has no sting: 
'Tis a kind porter to conduct us where 
A realm of light and beauty shines around — 
A world of glorious Immortality! 
A world? Yes worlds of vast immensity. 
And what of us? We'll be our very selves, 
Free from all imperfections consequent 
Upon the curse, entailed thro' Adam's fall: 
T' enjoy life's sweet associations, such 
As parents, children, husbands, wives and friends — 
With Gods and Goddesses — A\-ith the noblesse 
Of all eternities; and freely bask 
In full, bright sunbeams of intelligence, 
With legal access to its mighty fount — 
A life divested of mortality. 
Yet life as real as existence here. 

I've had a taste of mortal suffering: 
I've seen my fellows drink its cup fill'd to 
The brim and running o'er, until the pulse 



Of life was clogg'd in every wheel— until 

Nature's deep agonies outweigh'd the love 

Of Ufe, and yet the throbbing pulse beat on. 

But thanks to God, there is an end decreed 

To human sorrow, pain and misery. 

I aim— I live for immortality. 

Life, knowledge, bliss, without one stopping point. 

A thought that I should ever cease to be, 
Would paralize all other thoughts— 'twould dim 
The brightest beams of joy, and would crush out 
Each holy aspiration of the heart — 
Eradicate that precious organ, hope- 
Embargo enterprize, and dry up all 
The tributary streams of happiness. 

There's nothing short of Immortality, "^'^• 

Can satisfy the earnest cravings of 
That spark of pure divinity, which God 
Implanted, as the fine, constituent part 
Of beings, organized with attributes 
Like His— the germ of an eternal life. 

Crown of all wisdom, sum of good to man. 
Scheme of the Gods, redemption's glorious plan; 
This, through the resurrection's power combines 
Immortal bodies and immortal minds. 



Has earth to boast, a fairer, brighter gem, 
A gem of greater worth, than confidence? 

It is a pearly diadem in all 
Of life's associations; and the base 
Of expectation and of future hope — 
A source, a pedestal of happiness 
Below, and the assurance which we feel 
Of a fruition in the world above. 

If not a balance to determine weights. 
It constitutes the weight — the size — the length 
And breadth, and the importance of each look — 
Each word, and every act of those wdth whom 
In life, we have to do. 

- Where'er it reigns 
Predominant, there love and freedom dwell; 
And union too, has an abiding place; 
And there the beating heart, charm'd vrith. its own 
Security, pours all its contents out; 
And thought with thought — feeling ^ith feeling, finds 
Reciprocation constant, full and free: 
And there, as if upon an easy couch 
Reclin'd; the spirit rests itself from all - 
Distrust and jealousy; in sweet repose. 

28 POEMS. 

And yet, with all its virtues— all its worth, 
How often lightly priz'd— how cheaply sold! 
What! Sold? No: never. Confidence is not 
A thing of traffic, and as tenements — 
As goods and chattels sold— like them transfer'd 
Unto the purchaser, and thus obtain'd 
By stipulation, as a currency. 

It oft is sacrific'd— 'Tis ofifer'd up 
On base, unholy altars— at the shrine 
Of one or more of all the passions of 
Degen'rate nature in our fallen state. 
Whoe'er performs the act, the offering; 
Upon the altar places, that which is 
Another's property, and not^his own. 

'Tis worse than common theft and robbery— 
'Tis wanton sacrilege— 'tis burglary. 
For friend to trespass on the bosom of 
A friend, and tear from the possessor,^that 
Inestimable jewel. Sooner far, 
Than I would have my confidence in those 
I dearly love, eradicated, I 
Would have my purse-my gold-my jewelry. 
And aU that kind of substance, torn away 
By the usurper. Gold and silver may. 
If not recover'd, have its place supplied, 
And fuU remuneration made for all 
And ev'ry loss. Not so with confidence; 
That has no substitute— no agency; 
Naught but itself officiates for itself. 



Let once the pillars which support its throne 
Be torn asunder — its foundation be 
Destroy 'd or shaken; and it will almost 
Transcend the pow'rs of possibility, 
Again its own primeval beauty to restore; 
But yet when its destruction is the work 
Of stealth, by foul incendiary, who. 
With evil purpose,;serpentinely coils 
Around, and with a deadly, pois'nous shaft; 
Infusing canker in the citadel; 
Annihilates its fair, supernal form; 
When changing circumstances shall the wretch 
Expose, he has the forfeiture to pay; 
And confidence, with all its former pow'rs 
Restor'd, returns and fills its rightful throne. 

Saints, with each other, should pursue a course 
That will create, establish, and preserve; 
With care assiduously cherishing, 
Each in the other's bosom, confidence. 

Warm'd by the moving pulses of the heart, 
The law of kindness flo\Nang from the tongue, 
Bearing the image of the inmost thought; 
Should constitute the fulcrum of control. 
Each word should be its own expositor — 
Each look — each action should be stereotyp'd 
With the firm impress of unchanging truth. 

Sweeter to me,' than honey in the comb, 
Is the communion of congenial minds. 
Of noble texture and o^ sentiment 


Exalted and refin'd; where confidence 
Is full— is perfect— is by time matur'd, 
And tested by conflicting circumstance. 
It is a plant of slow, delib'rate growth, 
When to perfection it attains in form, 
In feature and in durability; 
And tho' untiring care is requisite 
In planting and in cultivation too; 
Its grateful service will the toil repay. 

It is a stretch of science in this low, 
Perverted age, to learn t' appreciate 
Whate'er of confidence is worth our aim. 

What God approves, I love. The confidence 
Of those, within whose bosoms, richly dwells. 
His holy Spirit— those whose hearts are warm 
With the sweet influence of celestial love, 
And thrill with Inspiration's sacred fire— 
Whose minds, Avith the intelligence of heav'n's 
Eternal truths, abundantly are stor'd— 
Whose labor is for Zion, and whose aim 
Is the salvation of the human race; 
I say, the confidence of such, is that 
I crave; I also crave, and while I crave. 
By merit I would seek, the confidence 
Of pure intelligences, unbeheld 
By the gross vision of mortality: 
Who, tho' unseen, and tho' unheard by the 
Exterior senses; watch around, and oft, 
In sweet, low whisperings communicate 
Unto our understandings; or impart 

POEMS. 31 

The thrilling influence of prophetic fire: 

Whose sensibility, acutely fine, 

Precludes their free approach where evil thoughts 

Or evU practices contaminate 

The halo of the moral atmosphere, 

With which, self-forming, each, ourselves surround. 

Soothing as balmy, evening zephyrs — sweet 
As orient fragrant spicy gales — grateful 
As honey dews upon the smiling lawn, 
Is confidence 'twixt friend and friend, on earth: 
But when its own bright radius upward points; 
And when it permanently concentrates 
Its firm undeviating hold upon 
The truth of God— the revelations of 
His will to man in these the latter-days; 
Prompting obedience to the precepts taught; 
It is the magnet of salvation here, 
And leads instinctively unto the fount 
Of everlasting peace and happiness: 
It leads its own possessor to the tree 
Of Life — to habitations made with hands 
That are immortal — to the courts on high. 
Where, crown'd with majesty, in glory dwell 
Jesus, our Brother, and our Father, God. 



Time, in a touz* of near six thousand years, 
Has register'd things of tall note. 

When Earth 
Receiv'd the fulness of its measure from 
Th' Almighty's great creative hand; he saw 
Her wedded, and in Godlike harmony 
Associated with the countless spheres 
Which form the mighty Universe, Her place, 
Her orbit was defin'd: moving therein, 
Thus far, her own creation's law f ulfill'd. 

He saw chaotic elements control 'd— 
The firm of light and darkness broken up, 
And day and night alternately succeed. 

He saw the curse with all its woe, entail'd 
On' Adam's profligate, degen'rate sons. 

He saw the great immersion of the world, 
Washing away the disobedient race, 
Which had extended o'er the face of Earth, 
T.ike clouds: and had eclips'd her loveliness. 

He's seen huge empires creeping from the gulph 
Of non-existence; and assume the right 



Of being amd forever more to be: 

Then, by a ling'ring gaze from his stern brow; 

In terrible convulsions die away. 

Nations awaken'd by the noble charms 

Of virtue; he has seen arise in pomp 

And haughty grandeur, and uncons liously, 

By syren voices, lull'd to dead repose. 

H e's se fijgthe tallest, proudest monuments 
Of human art, crumble to atom dust. 
And scatter on the flyingjAvinds of heav'n, 
Thro' the strange magic of his passing breath. 

All this: — And he has not beheld a scene — 
He never has recorded an event 
More strange — more full of meaning, or more deep 
With interest — higher in majesty; 
And none so big with future consequence. 
As the Grand Conquest in the Middle Age, 
On which the fate of Dispensations hung; 
When heavn's great Champion met a monster, which, 
Four thousand years of fearful slaughter, fail'd 
To slake his burning thirst for human gore ! 
He'd eaten kings — demolish'd cities, and 
Evacuated bolted citadels — 
He'd slain ambition — blasted beauty — scorn'd 
Aflfection's pray'r, and mock'd the tears of love; 
And fast empannel'd in his leaden jaws, 
Held ev'ry victim of his horrid rage; 
And even dar'd insultingly to face 
The royal fav'rite of the majesty 
On high. 


The conflict closely wag'd— and Oh! 
The noble champion fell! The monster laugh'd— 
Heav'n trembled— Nature clos'd her tearless eye 
In frantic agony! But lo! The Knight 
Was only leaning on the monster's breast, 
Better to reach the center of his heart; 
And then arose unharm'd, and bore away 
The quiv'ring spirit of a vanquish 'd foe. 

From their high seats, cherubic hosts arose, 
And they came down to hail him; for all heav'n 
Waited in mute solicitude, to see 
The issue of the great momentous scene. 

The Son of God, came off victorious: 
Honors awaited him, and he was borne, 
By a triumphal escort, through the skies. 
And seated high upon his Father's throne. 
The mighty Gabriel with his noble train, 
Essay 'd to worship him; and bowing down. 
With ensigns of immortal dignity; 
He touch'd a chord— ten thousand harps awoke. 
Hark! hark!— An echo from the upper heav'n. 

'Welcome, welcome. King of glory— 
Thou hast conquer'd— thou hast won: 

The heav'n of heav'ns will shout the story 
Of the deed which thou hast done- 
Welcome to the highest throne. 

Thou art he who stoop'd to conquer- 
Thou has slain the ghastly foe. 

POEMS. 35 

Whose unhallow'd rage and rancor 
Swell'd the tide of human woe— 
Thou hast laid his spirit low. 

Down to the dregs, thou didst not shrink 
The bitter cup, on earth, to drink; 
And hence the pow'rs of vict'ry flow 
Unto the sons of men below. 

Pow'r and dominion, both in earth and heaven 
Are thine, and to thy name all praise be given: 
We feel a holy pride as we adore thee, 
And spread our crowns and royalties before thee. 

Gloiy to thee, we will repeat 

And bend with def 'rence at thy feet, 

For ev'ry honor is thy due 

Thou King of Kings and conqueror too.' 

Bow down to Him, ye nations: Shout, ye Saints, 
In strains of high intelligence; and through 
Obedience, manifest your love to Him 
Who spoil'd your spoiler; now that you can look 
So fearlessly u^on pale, conquered Death. 



Written for, and read before an Assembly of the 
'•'■Polysophical Association,'^^ in L. iSnoivls 
Hall, Salt Lake City, 1855. 

Most courteously, this evening, I'll present 
Before this Audience, a sentiment — 
At least a hint, on Nationality, 
A love, or rather a partiality 
For birth-place, country, and the people where 
Our lungs at first inhale the vital air. 

One might as well my thoughts exterminate — 
My place in pedigree annihilate. 
Or the warm pulse of life eradicate; 
As to efface or to remove from me. 
The sentiment of Nationality. 

It of my nature constitutes a part- 
Unites with all the life-blood of my heart; 
And if no trait or portion of my spirit, 
'Tis something I eternaUy inherit. 

NotaU the charms surrounding scenes impart. 
Can chase the high-ton'd feelings from my heart; 
For oft— full oft, so tenderly they yearn, 
A kindling impulse prompts a fond return 
Unto the land of my nativity— 
My native home-my native scenery. 


But where — O where the land so choice — so dear? 
Which is the nation I so much revere? 

I do not languish for the lakes and rills — 
The rugged heights of Europe's Alpine hills — 
The verdant vales which beauteously repose 
'Neath their bold summits of eternal snows; 
Nor would I boast a proud nativity 
On the luxuriant plains of Italy, 
With glowing, sunny landscapes, rich and fair — 
Tall city spires, and grand cathedrals there; 
Where the salubrious clunate's genial heat 
Gives to the pulse, a soft and ardent beat; 
Where nature with accelerated force, 
With less of time, completes her wonted course. 

Nor yet in Germany, where laws are made 
To fit like tenons for the joiner's trade — 
Where ev'ry code of civil policy, 
Mocks the precision of Geometry — 
Where ease and luxury are smiling round, 
And merry glee and cheerfulness abound: 
Where summer meadows and the harvest field, 
To man and beast, a joyous plenty yield. 

Not Britain, with its mountains, hills, and dales; 
Including England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales; 
With inland products and ship-crested coast — 
Comprising much that wealth and honor boast: 
With far-fam'd Cities, ToM'ns, and Villas too. 
Where genius flourish'd and where valor grew: 

38 POEMS. 

With aU varieties of grade and sphere 

Of home, sweet home, most lovely and most dear— 

The honor'd home of noble thousands; where 

Are executed with judicious care, 

Those legal pow'rs, created to bestow 

Protection's banner, on the high and low; 

And where religious toleration, now, 

Above all elsewhere, lifts its manly brow. 

Not Sweden, Denmark, Norway, nor in France, 
Where revolution's onward strides advance, 
And then recede; as tides that ebb and flow- 
As moons that waxing, waning, onward go, 
While soft refinement, with its graceful air. 
Displays a master-stroke of polish there : 
Where vinous foliage, native fruits and flow'rs 
Yie mth exotics, in luxuriant bow'rs. 

Neither America's much favor 'd land, 
Where Lehi, guided by Jehovah's hand, 
Obtain'd a place for him and his to be 
Thro' generations of posterity. 

Where those choice records— where the truth was found. 
As said Isaiah, ^'speaking from the ground:^ 

Not coasts, nor capes, nor Islands of the sea: 
For none I cherish fond partiality. 

I say with brother Eddington; I'm not 
Italian, Hindoo, English, German, Scot; 
Neither American, Swiss, Welsh, or Dane, 
Nor yet an Islander from ocean's main, 

Xor Spanish, French, Norwegian or Swede — 
I claim no country, nation, kingdom, creed. 
Excepting Zion: — that I proudly name — 
That is the home I fondly love to claim. 
Were I to boast of Nationality, 
I'd go beyond this frail mortality. 

The noblest spirits scatter'd o'er the earth, 
By truth's eternal infl'ence gather'd forth 
From Babylon to earthly Zion, here. 
Are on their way to heav'ns celestial sphere. 
Our inns — our stopping-places, which, or where, 
Don't matter, when we've paid our bills of fare. 

One God— one faith— one baptism— w^e are now 
All in one kingdom— at one altar bow: 
The union of the Father and the Son, 
Is heav'n's true pattern— we must all be one — 
All local feelings must be laid aside, 
And former differences no more divide. 
The time approaches — Soon will Zion be 
The pride of earthly Nationality; 
When 'twill the histories of those adorn. 
Of whom 'tis said, they icere in Zion born. 

The holy Spirit, every saint receives; 
Is one sense added to what nature gives — 
It forms a pow'rful telescope, whereby 
We look beyond the stretch of mortal eye : 
Its keen perceptive vision takes a view 
Of origin and destination too. 

Through this superior spirit sense, we learn 
What our inferior senses ne'er discern — 

40 POEMS. 

That we're not natives of this fallen earth— 
We liv'd before— we had an earlier birth— 
A clime and habitations highly pure, 
Beyond what these gross senses can endure. 

There is the charm, the Nationality, 
The spring of impulse actuating me — 
That is the point to which I would attain — 
The country— home, I fondly would regain; 
From whence, for noble purposes, we all. 
To gain experience thro' our Parents' fall — 
To gain the zenith of perfected worth, 
Have come on i^ilgrimage, thro' mortal birth. 
As foreign trav'lers, each, a camping ground, -- — - 
On diff'rent portions of the earth, has found, 
The force of habit gives to each a grace — 
Peculiar charms to each and ev'ry place: 
And yet, with all the adoration felt, 
As at their shrines devotedly we knelt. 
Not one— not all possess'd sufficient worth, 
To make us feel quite nat'raliz'd to earth. 

Our hearts beat upward, and our feelings move 
In homeward currents, towards those we love. 
Where uncorrupted nature's beauties glow- 
Where life's pure streams from endless fountains flow: 
And there the sixth, the spirit-sense will lead, 
If, to its dictates, we give earnest heed; 
And its refining process will prepare 
Us for a full and free reception there; 
And there we'U talk of Nationality, 
With the Celestials of Eternity. 



The hopes of heaven beguile life's checker'd way, 
And light us onward to the world on high. 

Go, follow to yon humble cottage, him 
Whose early matin is primeval with 
Day's dawn, and who is seen from morn till night 
In cheerful toil, beneath yon brow-beat hill. 

Misfortune met him at his birth, and mark'd 
Him her's and he had no alternative; 
And more than twice ten summer's suns had roll'd 
Around, when all he knew of choice, was just 
To mould and shape his wlQ, to the bare form 
Of stern necessity. He wept, sometimes; 
But when his spirit felt more resolute, 
He would impugn the heav'ns, and curse his lot. 

Meanwhile, he toU'd and struggled hard, just to 
Preserve his head from crushing, under the 
Keen tort'ring wheel of grim adversity. 

There is a light which has been known to shine 
Upon the darkest path: It shone on his; 
And he is happy now, as from between 
The leaves of Truth's supernal volume, he 
Draws richest treasures forth, or listens to 
The words of inspiration as they flow 
From God's own servants, with his spirit filled. 

The pinching hand of this world's poverty 
Lies on him yet; but all its heaviness. 


Has vanish'd, and it is no burden now; 

And all the multitude of little cares 

That throng'd his path, and teas'd and vex'd him then, 

Surround him yet, but they are dispossess'd 

Of their morose and peeyish influence, 

And seem quite harmless and dispassionate. 

Now every form looks beautiful to him. 
And every sound is full of melody. 

Go to that sick one's couch, whose steadfast faith, 
Reposing on the everlasting word 
Of Him who does not lie, has kindled in 
Her bosom, the pure flame of heav'nly hope; 
And in whose heart the glorious visons of 
Eternity are truthfully impressed. 

Step softly o'er the carpet— let not a 
Harsh sound disturb the quietude of the 
Frail tenement, which has, by long disease, 
Contracted close affinity with the 
Unsocial land of silence. Go up now 
Stilly to the bedside, and gently o'er 
The pillow bend, and listen silently, 
And catch the high aspiring note, and mark 
What thriUing joy her spirit fosters when 
'Tis striking hands with frail mortality. 

Preserve the secret, in thy breast, rather 
Than tempt the cavil of a faithless world. 

They teU us, every hope that bears beyond 
This little life, is but the phantom of 
A fragUe heart, or a disordered brain. 



Far from the land that gave thee bu-th— 
O, canst thou find no spot on earth, 
So fondly dear to thee, 
As the heart-woven land thou hast left far behind, 
In the earliest wreath of young mem'ry entwin'd. 
With the friends of your childhood that charm 'd you 

so long 
With the soft mellow tones of the juvenile song, 
In the strains of afifectiouate glee? 

You see, no more the limpid rill 
That purl'd beneath your fav'rite hill; 
O, will you love to stray 
In your recklessness now, by a strange streamlet's 

Will you feel in your bosom, that innocent pride. 
Which stole on you so oft, when the light of its spell 
Gave new charms to the dew-drops which lusciously 
On your own— your lov'd path, far away? 

You've left behind your social train: 
Will your fond spirit rest again, 
And feel security 
In the bosom of strangers you never have tried 
By the ebb and the flow of prosperity's tide? 

44 POEMS. 

Or, will it retreat on the wings of regret, 
To the frequented bow'r, where most lovingly met 
Those which friendship held sacred to thee? 

Believe me: here are friends as kind 
As those whom you have left behind — 
Green walks, and streams that flow, 
With a current as clear, and a murmur as soft, 
As the one that has fill'd your rich musings, so oft: 
O, then sever yourself from the chains of the past, 
Unto which your affections are fetter'd so fast; 
Since the present, has gifts to bestow. 

But can you not the fairy chase 
That binds you to your native place; 
Rather than feel unblest; 
To the friends of your childhood— your country your 

Go, go and be happy— 'tis foUy to roam: 
Go: return to the shade of thy fair dropping vine. 
Where the pulses of nature seem wedded to thine; 
Go, and lull thy lone spirit to rest. 

POEMS. 45 


Contentment is wealth that I would not resign 
For all the gold dust, ever found in the mine: 
'Tis a boon so unearthly — a jewel so fair 
That with crowns, thrones, and empires will never 

And I would not exchange it for beauty's line grace 
Nor all fickle attractions that time will erase: 
Boasted honors and titles I freely despise. 
When contrasted with this incomparable prize. 

Would you feel in your bosom a music of soul. 
Like the soft gliding stream's imperceptible roll? — 
Clothe your mind with a sweetness surpassing the rose? 
Fondly cherish the fortune, Contentment bestows. 

What! that passive contentmentthat laziness screens, 
Which recoils at the use of appropriate means? 
That inactive content which can carelessly wait, 
And leave objects adrift on the ocean of fate. 
And not hazard an effort, nor reach forth a hand. 
By the dint of exertion to bring them to land? 
The cold stupor that reigns when the heart-strings are 

And which fills the warm bosom wdth feelings acute? 


No; no: but the charm which spontaneously springs 
From a xiew of the nature and order of things. 
Not a torpid inertia, with pulses confin'd; 
But a principle in, and controling the mind — 
That sweet placid compliance, which virtue inspires, 
And which rigid necessity often requires. 

Yes, that cheerful concurrence that heaves not a sigh 
O'er the change-woven sceneries that time ushers by: 
Which performs as a limner, when prospects grow 

And creates a bright lamp in obscurity's vale: 
Which can smile at misfortune, and sport amid toil— 
The dark-omen 'd predictions of poverty foil: 
Which extracts the rough poison from malice and 

hate — 
That which draws from oppression its heaviest weight- 
Wakes up speech in retirement and sportively sings. 
In the midst of life's storms, inexpressible things: 
Which presides over feeling, with power so strange. 
That oft varying condition's divested of change. 

If contentment's true impulse benignly imparts 
Submission's sweet influence over our hearts, 
Nine-tenths of the varied discomfitures here, 
Recede in the distance, and rarely appear; 
And whate'er of life's comforts are graciously given, 
Are used with thanksgiving as blessings from heaven. 

POEMS. 47 


Deaf was my ear — my heart was cold: 
My feelings could not move - 

For all your vows, so gently told— 
Your sympathies and love. 

But when I saw you wipe the tear 

From sorrow's fading eye, 
And stoop the friendless heart to cheer. 

And still the rising sigh : 

And when I saw you turn away 
From folly's glittering crown, 

To deck you with the pearls that lay 
On wisdom's fallow ground: 

And when I saw your heart refuse 

The flatt'ring baits of vice. 
And with undaunted courage choose 

Fair virtue's golden prize: 

And when I saw your towering soul 

Rise on devotion's wings: 
And saw amid your pulses, roll, 

A scorn of trifling things. 



I loved you for your goodness sake 

And cheerfully can part 
With horn© and friends, confiding in 

Your noble, generous heart. 


Fan-, youthful Maiden, dost thou comprehend 
The honor, dignity— the glory, and 
The high responsibilities compris'd 
In your profession? 

You've essay'd to be 
A Saint of God— to be an heir of his, 
And a joint heir with Jesus Christ, to an 
Inheritance, eternal in the heavens. 
Number'd with Zion's daughters, you are rais'd 
In honor, high o'er earthly princesses. 

Thine was a favor'd lot, when o'er thy path 
The everlasting Gospel spread its light. 
That was a time of interesl^a scene, 
On which the angels gaz'd with holy joy. 
And made sweet mention of your name, in strains 
Of tuneful sympathy; when your warm heart, 
Beating with youthful expectation, and 
The sunny hopes of life's unclouded day. 

POEMS. 49 

Was open'd to receive the glorious rays 

Of truth, supernal, emanated from 

The gushing fountain of eternity : 

And when beneath the liquid wave, you clos'd 

Your eyes to this world's fascinating scenes, 

You started upward. 

Lady, onward move, 
Nor turn aside, though earth and hell combine 
Their hateful wi-ath and all the low disguise 
Of saintly hypocrites. 

There's none can stay 
Jehovah's hand; and nothing will impede 
The conquering footstep of his glorious work. 

A crown of brighter glory than the sun 
In yonder firmament, will yet be seal'd 
Upon the faithful Saint. But now, it is 
A day of sacrifice. Ease, honor, wealth, 
Must be surrender 'd to obtain the prize: 
E'en reputation, dearer far than life, 
Is doom'd to suffer cruel martyi-dom. 

The Lord permitted satan to go forth 
And prove the faith and the integrity 
Of Job, his servant: and he sufi'ers now, 
A lying tongue, with base impunity 
To stalk abroad. But God— the hosts of heav'n. 
And ail the best of earth, are on the side 
Of innocence. Then Lady, fear no ill, 
Except departures from the glorious truths, 
Communicated from the world on high. 


Angels have falVn ! Be this thy monitor 
To check the first faint glow of confidence 
In human -wisdom and in human strength. 
Confide in God, and cheerfully receive; 
Fearless of consequence; what he reveals 
From time to time, thro' his own prophets here; 
Then, neither principalities, nor pow'rs — 
Things present — things to come, nor height, nor depth, 
Can separate us from the love of God. 


Well may the fire of glory blaze 

Upon the warrior's tread, 
And nations twine a wreath of praise 

Around the hero's head. 
His path is honor, and his name 
Is written on the spire of fame. 

His deeds are deeds of courage, for 

He treads on gory ground. 
Amid the pride and pomp of war, 

When carnage sweeps around: 
With sword unsheath'd he stands before 
The foe, amid the cannon's roar. 

POEMS. 51 

If such, the meed the warrior gains — 
If such, the palm he bears — 

If such insignia he obtains — 
If such the crown he wears: 

If laurels thus his head entwine 

And stars of triumph round him shine; 

How noble must be his reward, 
Who, midst the crafts of men, 

Clad in the armor of the Lord, 
Goes forth to battle when 

The angry pow'rs of darkness rage. 

And men and devils warfare wage. 

Who goes tradition's charm to bind, 

That reason may go free — 
And liberate the human mind 

From cleric tyranny — 
To sever superstition's rod. 
And propagate the truth of God. 

Who wars \y\ih prejudice, to break 

Asunder error's chain; 
And make the sandy pillars shake 

Where human dogmas reign: 
Who dares to be a man of God 
And bear the spirit's sword abroad. 

Who with his latest dying breath 
Bears witness to the truth — 

Who fearless meets the monster death, 
To gain immortal youth; 

52 POEMS. 

And enters on a higher sphere, 
Without a shudder or a fear. 

Above all earthly, his shall be 
An everlasting fame; 

The archives of eternity- 
Will register his name — 

With gems of endless honor rife, 

His crown will be Eternal Life. 


Lo! the mighty God remembers 
Joseph's children in the West: 

In the day of their redemption, 
Shem with Japhet wiU be blest. 


Behold the day— the day is dawning— 
Darkness flies before our view: 

Old Lehi's children are returning, 
To walk in the light of Zion too; 
And we aU will shout aloud hosauna. 

Glory beams on Ephraim's mountains — 
Beauty smiles on Ephraims plains: 

Streams of joy, from beav'nly fountains, 
Join with music's sweetest strains. 
CHOEUs— Behold the day, etc. 

Come you wand'ring sons of Lehi, 
Learn the ways the white men love: 

Long the curse has rested on you — 
God will soon the curse remove. 
CHORUS— Behold the day, etc. 

Lo! ye scatter'd tribes of Israel, 

Ephraim and Manasseh too; 
Here the banner of salvation 
Is unfurl'd and waves for you. 

CHORUS— Behold the day, etc. 


The Great Spirit, ('tis said,) to our forefathers gave 
All the lands 'twixt the eastern and western big wave: 
And the Indian was happy — he'd nothing to fear 
As he ranged o'er the mountains and chased the wild 

54 POEMS. 

And he felt like a prince, as he steer'd the canoe, 
Or explored the lone wild, with his hatchet and bow- 
Quenched his thirst at the streamlet, or simply he fed, 
With the heavens for his curtains — the hillock his bed. 
Say, then was he homeless? No, no, our hearts beat 
For the dear ones we loved, in the wigwam retreat. 

But a wreck of the white man came over the wave: 
In the chains of the tyrant, he learned to enslave : 
Emerging from bondage, and pale with distress, 
He fled from oppression— he came to oppress. 
Yes, such was the white man, invested with power; 
When almost devoured, he could turn and devour. 
He seized our possessions, and fatt'ning with pride. 
He thirsted for glory, but, freedom he cried. 
Our fathers were brave — they contended awhile. 
Then left the invader the coveted soil: 
The spoiler pursued them — our fathers went on, 
And their children are now at the low setting sun. 
The white man, yet prouder, would grasp all the 

shore — 
He smuggled, and purchas'd, and coveted more. 

The pamper'd blue Eagle is spreading its crest 
Beside the great waters that circle the West — 
Behind the west woods, where the red man retires. 
The white man has kindled his opposite fires, 
To fell the last forest and burn up the wild 
Which Nature designed for her wandering child! 

Chased into environs, and nowhere to fly — 
Too weak to contend and unwilling to die: 


O where will a place for the Indian be found? 
Shall he take to the skies, or retreat under ground? 

Such are the breathings of the Indian's soul. 

Alas! that scathing, withering, dwindling thing, 

Degeneracy, the own legitimate — 

The natural offspring of apostacy! 

Its living monument appears before 

Us, in the filthy, poor, degraded race 

Of Lehi's once delightful, righteous seed. 

Once noble, civilized and well refined — 

Walking in all the statutes of the Lord; 

The golden gems of happiness adorned 

His path, and he walked forth with noble tread, 

In the most elevated forms of life 

Portrayed by earthly human dignity. 

He then was wise and most intelligent. 

For he drank freely at the flowing fount 

Of heavenly wisdom, and intelligence. 

And held communion with the worlds above. 

Then he was white and very beautiful. 

For then, the spirit of the Lord, which is 

The soul of beauty, and imparts a charm 

To all that's beautiful, reigned in his heart 

And glowed in every action of his life — 

His animated features shone with bright 

Reflected beams of God's own countenance. 

But mark the change! As habit blunts the edge 
Of sensibility, so seasons of 
Prosperity, continued long, will lull. 
To guilty sleep, appreciation's powers; 

56 POEMS. 

And man, dependent, mortal man, forgets 

The bounteoits hand from whence all blessing flow. 

Blinded by mammon's glittering bribes, he grows 

Proud in his heart, and vain in all his thoughts; 

And pressing to his lip the cup of vile 

Iniquity, swallows the deadly draught, 

And sinks in degradation's dark abyss! 

But justice slumbers not. — He has affix'd 

To every law, rewards and penalties; 

And in His courts, Judges and Jurors take 

No bribes! Therefore, the dreadful curse of God 

Upon the Lamanite, fell heavily. 

What has beginning, also has an end. 

The self -same power, that unto breach of law, 

Affixed a punishment, has also to 

That punishment, prescribed a certain bound, 

O'er which it cannot pass. 

Times, seasons and their changes, all fulfill 

Th' eternal purpose of Jehovah's will: 

Justice must have its legal, full demand. 

E'er soothing mercy can extend her hand. 

The night of ignorance, which deep shades distill'd 

On the poor red man, nearly is fulfill'd; 

Another key, the Priesthood turns, and lo! 

The glimm'ring rays of light begin to flow 

From the broad fountain of eternal day. 

And hope is hov'ring o'er his darksome way. 

While this last dispensation's moving on, 

To Joseph's scatter'd remnant's day will dawn— 

POEMS. 57 

Their hearts will beat responsive to the sound 
Of truth, as spoken from Cumorah's ground: 
The scales will fall which now becloud their eyes, 
And they, in faultless purity arise; 
And the now loathsome, savage Lamanite, 
Will, when the Lord removes the curse, be white: 
He'll learn our ways, and feel as saints should do— 
With them unite in building Zion, too. 

He'll yet go forth, and from his thicket den, 
"As a young lion," prowl on guilty men— 
The scourge of justice — vengeance's rod, he'll be, 
To punisli men of blood and cruelty. 

Ere the great indignation goes abroad, 

It has beginning at the House of God: 

The judgments that will make the nations fear 

And tremble, must be felt and tasted here. 

■■■: * * * *- * 

Peace to their footsteps, whosoe'er may go 

To Lehi's sons, the path of life to show. 

What though the cup seems bitter in your liand? 

Those who, as saviors on Mount Zion, stand, 

Must home and ease, and love of self, forego, 

To bear salvation unto those below: 

'Twas thus Messiah left the courts above, 

To fill a mission here, of life and love. 

Thus go, the cheering lamp of life to bear 

Wherever Jacob's scattered children are: 

The ancient fathers will your labors view, 

With faith and prayer— with guardian watchings too: 

58 POEMS. 

The tarrying Nephites, also, will appear 
From time to time, to guide, instruct and cheer. 
Shrink from no duty— fear no future ill: 
He that preserves us, will preserve us still. 


O, is there aught so gently strange 

By stoic reason taught, 
With all the rare varieties 

Of pain and pleasure, fraught: 
Where, without contradiction, 

The bitter and the sweet. 
With such surprising placidness, 

In combination meet: 
Where the extremely opposites. 

Of joy and sorrow come. 
Commingling so harmoniously, 
As in the Thoughts of Home? 
The Thoughts of Home — how strangely dear, 
While fond affection deigns to cheer; 
For hope will sing in spite of fear. 
And transports brighten with a tear. 

POEMS. 59 

Sweet tones of pensive playfulness, 

Move thro' each blissful lay; 
Much like the blush of evening, 

Amid the blaze of day; 
And all so indiscribably, 

They, only know, who feel 
The magic of its soft embrace, 

Across the. bosom, steal; 
And none but stranger-hearts can feel; 

And only those that roam. 
Can know the sober ecstacies 
That swell the Thoughts of Home. 
The Thoughts of Home! ah, who can tell 
The charming music of its spell, 
When mem'ry bids the chorus swell. 
On which reflection loves to dwell. 

When busy day, retiring. 

Withdraws its radiant eye; 
And scenes of wild confusedness 

In still composure lie: 
When nature's arms are folded 

Upon her slumb'ring breast. 
With all her brilliant gaieties 

In sullen sadness drest; 
O then, the stranger's inmost soul 

Exults to meet the gloom, 
And feed its fond affections on 

The cordial Thoughts of Home. 
For then the Thoughts of Home are prest 
With warmest ardor to the breast, 


When recollection's golden crest, 

In night's soft shadowy form, is drest. 

'Tis now the morning twilight 

Of the millennial day: 
Its dawn is fast approaching — 

We see its cheering ray; 
As on our spirit-pulses, 
. The Priesthood's dews distil, 
Bright prospects of our better Home, 

Our waking bosoms thrill; 
Where "holj^ habitations" are. 

By hands immortal, made, 
And with eternal beauties crowned, 
Whose lustre will not fade. 
And while as strangers, here we roam 
And stem time's billows, tide and foam, 
Like life-inspiring cordials, come 
The Thoughts of our Celestial Home. 


I love that Flag.— When in my childish glee, 
A prattling girl upon my Grandsire's knee, 
I heard him tell strange tales, with valor rife- 
How that same Flag was bought with blood and life; 

POEMS. 61 

And his tall form seemed taller, when he said, 
" My child, for that, your Grandpa fought and bled." 
My young heart felt, that every scar he wore. 
Caused him to love that banner more and more. 

I caught the tire, and, as in years I grew, 
I loved the Flag — I loved my country too: 
My bosom swell'd with pride, to think my birth 
Was on this highly favor'd spot of earth. 

* ^ ■■■ * iii * * 

There came a time, I shall remember well — 
Beneath the " Stars and Stripes " we could not dwell: 
We had to flee: but in our hasty flight, 
We grasped the Flag, \vith more than mortal might; 
Resolved, that, though our foes should us bereave 
Of home and wealth, our JBlag, ive would not leave. 
We took the Flag, and journeying to the West, 
We wore its motto graven on each breast. 

Here, we arrived in peace; and God be praised, 
Anon our country's glorious standard raised; 
And the dear Flag, in graceful majesty, 
Hail'd o'er the mountains, " Uxiox — Liberty." 
Fair Freedom spread her garlands 'round us, though 
This land was held in claim by Mexico. 

'Twas not as now, with cities spreading round, 
And nature's products flowing from, the ground — 
With shelt'ring roofs, and plenty's genial smile, 
With luscious boards, to nerve the arm for toil. 


Xo spade nor plow had stirred the sleeping sod- 
Xo whiteman's foot, the turf had ever trod: 
'Twas all a waste, lone, desolate and drear — 
The savage roamed — the cricket chirruped here. 

Exiled from home, a long and weary tread, 
With meagre outfits — scanty was our bread: 
Grim-faced necessity enforced a strife — 
We battled with the elements for life. 

But God was ^vith us, and His wisdom saved — 
High, o'er our heads, the sacred banner waved: 
'Mid shouts of joy, I saw that Flag unfurled, 
And wave, on mountain breezes, to the world. 

'Tis wa\'ingyet. — Forever shall it wave: 
Beneath its spire, celestial Peace shall lave. 
Hail to the Banner of the brave and free — 
All hail, to Union, Truth and Liberty. 


Hail, the Day when Freedom, first, 
Proud oppression's fetters burst — 
Hail, their shades, who boldly durst 
Liberty proclaim. 


POEMS. 63 

Here, amid the mountain sky, 
Freedom's Flag is waving tiigh — 
Let the heav'n-bom echo fly; 
God and Liberty. 

Hail, the Banner of the brave, 
Streaming o'er the patriot's grave: 
Here, forever shall it wave 
To protect the just. 

Chorus — 

Glorious Fourth! The day is ours — 
We have nourished Freedom's powers, 
And with us, her standard tow'rs 
To Jehovah's throne. 


God, who moved our worthy Sires, 
When they kindled Freedom's fires, 
Utah's noble sons, inspires 
With the sacred flame. 


Here, with God-like grasp, and bold, 
We, the Constitution hold. 
Pure as when its sacred fold 

Was, at first, bequeathed. 

Chorus — 

64 POEMS. 

Peace, the gift that Freedom gave, 
When she crowned the wise and brave, 
Bids her royal banner wave 

O'er our mountain home. 


Peace, for which our fathers bled — 
Peace, on which the nations tread — 
Peace, the angel-form, has fled 
To these mountain vales. 


Freedom spreads her wand abroad. 
Prompting all to worship God, 
Fearless of the tyrant's rod: 
Glorious Liberty! 


Freedom, Justice, Truth and peace, 
Shall in Utah's vales increase: 
Shout, O shout, till time shall cease. 
Truth and liberty! 

Chorus — 

Here, amid the mountain sky. 
Freedom's Flag is waving high- 
Let the heav'n-born echo fly- 
God and Libertv. 

POEMS. 65 


List to that sound — that rollmg chime: 
Hark! 'tis the busy knell of Time: 

The year has ^one, 

And borne along, 

The hopes and fears — 

The smiles and tears 
Of multitudes unknown to song. 

The year has gone, and in its train, 
Such scenes of pleasure and of pain. 
As bear us on 
From life's first dawn, 
Thro' flowing deeps — 
O'er rugged steeps, 
Until life's glimmering lamp is gone. 

The year has gone — but mem'ry still. 
The curtain holds with fairy skill: 

As if to keep 

Old Time asleep, 

While scenes roll back 

Upon their track. 
And recollection takes a peep. 

66 POEMS. 

The year has gone — but yet, a trace, 
Which Time's broad besom can't erase, 
Is left behind 
To point the mind, 
To deeds perform 'd, 
And prospects warm'd, 
Closely with future years entwin'd. 

The year has gone, and with it fled 
The schemes of many an aching head; 

The half-formed schemes, 

Like fairy dreams. 

Which take their flight 

Before the light, 
Or perish in the noon-day beams. 

The year has gone, and with it flown 
The sage's thought — the songster's tone- 
Gone to pervade 
Oblivion's shade: 
And with them dies 
No more to rise. 
The product of the Poet's head. 

POEMS. 67 


There's a pause— there's an ebb in the nation tide — 
There's a check on the reins of fratricide. 
Hush'd is the cannon's thundering roar, 
And the clarion's sound is heard no more: 
No more the shrill cry of, To arms! to arms! 
Stirs the feverish war-pulse with fresh alarms: 
The brave warriors' chargers have ceased to tread. 
With proud prancing step, over heaps of dead. 

No more, on the crimson'd battle field, 

In hostile dread array, 
In armor equip'd— with sword and shield. 

And with hearts that yearn to slay; 
Brother with brother— son with sire — 

Kindred with kindred meet, 
And kin against kin, with mortal ire. 
The war-drum of battle, beat; 
Who seem'd, by mutual demon impulse, driven 
To send each other, sword in hand, to heaven: 
They all were " Christians " — by one faith endow'd — 
Pray'd the same prayer — at the same altars bow'd. 

That awful scene has closed; and yet, not all 
Of sorrow ceases with the curtain's fall: 
One peep behind the scenes, would much disclose. 
Of bleeding anguish and a world of woes: 


The warm heart sickens at the distant view — 

God help the widows and the orphans too; 

And succor female innocence; and give 

The pure in heart protective pow'r to live, 

E'en tho' corruption with its gold-gloved hand 

Should grasp the reins, and rule throughout the land. 

And now of boasted peace, pray tell 
Where the pure goddess deigns to dwell: 
Ye statesmen, if you'll tell us where 
Freedom is free, sweet Peace dwells there: 
What truthful patriot would dare, 
Pointing to Congress, say, " tis there? " 
If Peace is there, it apes a mouse, 
Both in the Senate and the House. 
It is not, altogether a " mouse in the wall," 
* Tis a mouse in the sanctum and one in the hall— 
' Tis a mouse in the desk, and it nibbles the laws, 
And it nibbles the lock on the Treasury's draws, 
And it nibbles the vetoes, and nibbles the pleas. 
And would fain nibble Utah as mice nibble cheese; 
But for all of these nibblings, we'll give it ablution, 
When it ceases to nibble the old Constitution. 

Is it true, peace and freedom have sometimes met. 
By mere chance, in the President's Cabinet? 
And say, is it true that Sambo is free? 
He seems ill at ease in his liberty, 
Which is like a wild bird— the North caged it, and 
In its cage, it now flutters in Sambo's hand; 
And full many dilemmas of various mixtures 
Are now interwove with our national fixtures. 


They call it a peace, when the deadly strife 
Is over, which battles with life for life. 
Office trafficers, swindlers and their vile horde 
Will entail worse mischiefs than fire and sword : 
When corruption mounts the chariot of Time, 
Peace will not remain in the province of crime. 

There's a time — it will come, when these evils will 

cease — 
From the throes of our nation, the Phcenix of Peace 
Will come forth in proud triumph, and Liberty, then. 
Will, with Justice and Truth, bless the children of men. 


I hate hypocrisy — that velvet thing 
With silken lips, whence oily words flow out. 

'Tis like a mildew in the social cup 
Of life — 'tis worse than mould — 'tis poison — 'tis 
A worm disguised, that eats asunder the 
Most holy cords of confidence, that bind 
In cordial fellowship, the hearts of men. 
Kind words, with falsehood in them? Yes, how strange ! 
Designed to please — and yet, they do not please, 
But sting, like vipers, into frienship's core. 

70 POEMS. 

I love sweet sounds — soft and melodious, 
That chime with pure unsullied nature's tones; 
But to my soul there is no melody 
In sounds, however smooth, devoid of truth. 
I'd rather hear the dashing cat'ract's roar, 
Or the rough clamor of the swelling surge. 
Or listen to the thunder's bursting peal, 
Than creamy words, with glowing eloquence 
Dress 'd up, which savor of dishonesty. 

If I were ignorant, blind, or were a fool, 
I could take down the soporific draught, 
And call it good, and look the author in 
The face, and smile, and be no hypocrite. 
But when I'm like my Maker, God, endued 
With intuition, (be it e'er so small) 
I do, like Him, love truth and honesty. 

Although it savors much of treach'ry, 
There's many a fashionable, well-disposed, 
Kind feeling hyjDocrite, would not betray; 
But aiming for your good, they, Jesuit-like, 
Believe " the end will sanctify the means," 
And thus destroy the jewel, confidence. 

I will not dij) my pen in gall: Then how 
Describe that vice of vices — treachery? 

The traitor, holding claims on manhood, is 
A gross burlesque upon his Maker's form. 
And would be, were he rightly classified. 
Of crawling reptile kind, so serpentine. 
That as the anaconda twines itself 

Affectionately round its victim, till 

Life yields its empire to the fond embrace; 

So coils the traitor, when his aim is death. 

How sordid is the wretch who sets a price 
For traffic, on his brethren, kingdom, friends — 
His nation, countiy — his salvation, all! 

And what the price? Perchance a paltry sum 
Of Gold— a little speck of that same gold, 
With which, the common streets of Zion will 
Be pav'd, on which, tte faithful Saints of God 
Will tread. 

Perhaps he sells at cheaper rate — 
For only the vile, rotten friendship of 
The villainous, who more despise him for 
The very treachery, purchased with a kiss. 

God has implanted in the human heart, 
A love of honor, right and righteousness; 
And he, within whose soul, this attribute 
Of Deity, dies out, has fallen far 
Indeed, below his natal innocence. 

'Twould seem, the traitor's heart would be its o'vnti 
Reproof, as he with hellish purpose, joins 
In all the various walks of Church and State — 
With a mock interest, in grave councils, meets, 
And sits in judgment on his country's weal: 
With seeming sanctity, he mtugles in 
The circles met for holy prayer and praise, 
And dares the name of God to utter: Yes, 
"He prays like Abel, and performs like Cain." 


The ancient Judas, modern Arnold aped — 
Some others, later still, I've known, but they 
Are gone, and with them, let their mem'ries rot: 
All their successor's fates will be the same — 
Their ghosts will meet in Pluto's nether shade. 

But traitors have been, are, and will be, till 
Satan is bound, and all his imps destroyed. 

Many betray through ill-plac'd confidence: 
With no intent of crime, committing crimes — 
Let such, take counsel and henceforth, beware. 

" Hell is let out for noon" — foul spirits are, 
With all their wires, at work — coarse wires and fine. 
To draw in traps, in readiness to spring. 
Let none presumpt'ously conceit themselves, 
Impervious to all their thousand schemes. 

While aiming to be greatly good, be wise; 
Goodness is not sufficient — wisdom fills 
Salvation's judgment seat and Chair of State. 

Integrity leads to the Godhead— Truth 
Is God's own pass -word at the gate of heaven. 



What champion comes with piercing eye — 

With bold and manly brow? 
Whose lip has never quiver'd: Why? 

He never broke a vow. 

You see no cringing in his look — 

No flinching and no fear: 
And why? No bribe he ever took— 

No flatt'ry cliarms his ear. 

He shows no tremor in his hand- 
No fait 'ring in his tread: 

He's form'd the living to command, 
And rule the mighty dead. 

The same in person ev'rywhere, 

And champion all the while, 
Tho' deckVl with gold and di'monds rare, 

Or clad in peasant style. 

The soul of gifts he can dispense; 

Mark well to whom he gives : 
He smiles, and wounded innocence 

Looks up — revives, and lives. 

74 POEMS. 

His whisper reaches ev'ry ear 

From insect up to God: 
The nations all, his voice will hear— 

The guilty feel his rod. 

What mean those accents swelling high? 

His words in thunders roll: 
A trembling shakes the earth and sky— 

'Tis felt from pole to pole. 

His finger on injustice laid, 

He casts a with 'ring frown; 
And grasps his sword with sharpen'd blade, 

And cuts oppression down. 

Who is this noble champion, who, 

Alike in age and youth? 
I love him, tho' his friends are few: 

His name— I'll speak it: Truth. 



"O Lord my God, thou art very great: thou art 

clothed with honor and majesty'''' — 
'■'■All the gods of the nations are idols; hut the Lord 

made the heav^ns.^^ 

Hebi-eiv Psalmist. 

Let the pagan claim for his god of war, 
An unconscious thing on a stupid car — 
Let him bless the leek and adore the cow, 
Or before the Lama of Thibet bow. 
Let ambition's dupes to its altar hold — 
Let the miser boast of his idol, gold: 
And let pleasure's votaries sacrifice 
To a faithless god, for a doubtful prize: 
And let all that bow at the shrine of fame, 
Feed their hungry god — 'tis an empty name. 
Let devout sectarians place their hearts 
On a god without passions, form or parts — 
One that kindly deign'd in the days of yore 
To converse with men, but will speak no more. 

Ah! they cannot boast of a God like mine. 
In whom love and pow'r in perfection shine. 
How inferior theirs, when compar'd with;Him, 
The Eternal Father, the Great Supreme? 


He, whose wisdom call'd this creation forth, 
^nd tlie sons of men, introduc'd to earth — 
He, whose finger marks ev'ry ocean's bound, 
While he moves the revolving planets, round — 
He, that " holds the firmament in his hand," 
WhileHie seasons yield to his stern command — 
Who, in liuman form sent His likeness down, 
To declare himself, and his love make known — 
That unequal'd love, that could stoop to die, 
That an earthly race might be rais'd on high — 
Might partake the streams of celestial kind, 
Fronrthe fountains of the Eternal Mind: — 
He, whose noble attributes are rife 
With the gifts and powers of an endless life — 
He, who, through the Priesthood, has kindly giv'n 
To his saints, a pattern of things in heav'n; 
Who has also giv'n thro' his pow'r and grace. 
Both Prophets and Seers for these latter-days — 
Who, the laws of light and life to unfold, 
I& conversing now as in days of old. 
He, who condescends to proclaim his Tvill, 
And unto his servants, his mind reveal — 
He, who led us here, to these peaceful vales — 
He, whose loving kindness never fails. 

There is none beside, I would call my own, 
For the Lord is God and He alone. 



Who can describe its worth? It is axl wokth. 
'Tis perfect in its parts to man reveal'd; 
But finite understanding cannot reach 
Its vast infinitude — its lofty height; 
And yet, in man's low, frail capacities, 
It meets him, and it ministers unto 
His nature, in each varied cii'cumstance. 

It meets him in his vile, degraded state 
Of sin and sorrow, warrings, toils and strifes; 
Where passion rules him while ambition goads, — 
Gives him control o'er his own fallen self— 
The vict'ry over evil pow'rs unseen, 
Which, fiend-like, oft infest the atmosphere 
Of this degen'rate world. 

It gives him, too. 
The vict'ry over Death — the tyrant Death — 
Disrobes its hand of all its terrors — turns 
Away its sting and gently modifies 
Its pain and bitterness. It kindly lifts 
The vail which hides th' eternal world from view 
And gives man access to the heights above : 
It stirs within his soul the inner life. 
That precious germ of immortality. 

78 POEMS. 

With wisdom, knowledge, hope, joy, peace and love, 

Quick'ning the fire of thought, and all the springs 

Of consciousness; endows him with the pow'r 

To live for ever and for ever be 

In form and feature his own perfect self — 

Imparts the keys by which he may detect 

False men, false messengers, false spirits and 

False everything, and ultimately will 

Place him on high, enriching him with thrones. 

With principalities and pow'rs, and crown 

Him with the gifts and pow'rs of endless lives. 

"Pearl of great price!" 'Tis worth all sacrifice 
Of this world's honor, and its pride of life — 
Its prejudice, ambition, and self-love, 
With all their kind. 'Tis more than amply worth 
Our long endurance of unnumber'd ills, 
Heai^'d up by persecution's clay-cold hand. 

No matter what or how things come and go 
With us and ours, if we adhere unto 
Our pure religion and, in heart and life, 
Honor, respect and cherish it. 'Twill lift 
Us out of sorrow, sickness, poverty, 
Reproach, injustice, and remove from us 
The red-hot lava and its clouds of smoke, 
Which roll in streams from Falsehood's burning pit. 

It holds the heav'n-acknowdedg'd claim on Truth — 
All Truth— all truthfulness, and all that's true 
In nature, science, policy and art: 
It tests and circumscribes all creeds and all 


Religions— knows their origin and sees, 
And can define their future destinies. 

It holds the present, past and future in 
A link— connects one dispensation with 
Another, then another, and so on. 
Till all the dispensations that are past, 
Combin'd, comprise the fullness of our own. 

'Tis of high origin. 'Tis not a thing 
Of earth. Its home is in the bosom of 
The Holy ones — 'tis self-existent ajid 
Coeval with th' Eternal Deity. 


To be a Saint, or not to be, 
Is ev'ry one's prerogative 

To choose. — If from volition free, 
You make your choice, that nobly live. 

The feint of doing things by halves. 
Is worse than doing not at all : 

Can'st worship God and golden calves? 
Bear Jesus' cross, with satan's pall? 

Win God and mammon, be allied? 
Can Jesus Christ and Baal unite? 

80 POEMS. 

Will truth and falsehood coincide, 
Or darkness propagate' the light? 

Then, wherefore think with mockery, 
Or base deception to prevail? 

Why bend to God the fait' ring knee, 
And yield the heart and hand to Baal? 

Why, smiling, gaze upon the cloud, 
Which, gath'ring, forms the deadly blast? 

Why, tamper with the coiling shroud. 
Till in its folds ii binds you fast? 

Who waits the thunder's voice to tell 
Of the fierce lightning's fatal stream? 

Or trusts th' enchantress' fairy spell 
T' avert the lifted poniard's gleam? 

Rise, trim your lamps and make them bright- 
Keep ev'ry thought and eye awake: 

Gird on your armor, for the fight — 
Truth, freedom, virtue, are at stake. 

You who indulge in carnal ease, 
Awaken from your treach'rous sleep, 

Rise — ev'ry post of duty seize. 
And sacred, ev'ry coy'nant keep. 

When God a crucible prepares, 
It burns with dross consuming heat: 

His threshing floor will waste the tares. 
But He'll preserve the precious wheat. 

POEMS. 81 


"Tis not for her to plough the deep, 

And gather pearls from ocean's bed; 
Or scale the rugged mountain's steep. 

For laurel wreaths to deck her head. 
She gathers pearls of other name 

Than those the ocean's bosom yields — 
Fair laurels never known to fame, 

She culls from w isdom's golden fields: 

'Tis not for her to face the foe 

Amid the cannon's thund'ring blaze; 
Or shudder at the winds that^blow 

Tremenduous 'gales in torrid seas. 
But there are foes^of othe reform— 

Of other aspect, she should. quell; 
And whisper music to the storm, 

When seas of passion rudely swell. 

'Tis not for her to lead the van — 
To be ensconced in Chair of State, 

To legislate 't^^dxt man and man — 
^Nations and laws to regulate. 

'Tis hers to fan the sacred fire 
Of manhood's true nobility — 

The heart of nations to inspire 
With patriotism and liberty. 

82 POEMS. 

'Tis hers, with heav'nly influence 

To Avield a mighty power divine- 
To shield the path of innocence 

And virtue's sacred worth define. 
'Tis hers to cultivate the germs 

Of all the faculties for good, 
That constitute the Godlike forms 
Of perfect man and womanhood. 

'Tis hers the sunbeam to sustain 
Amid misfortune's chilling breath— 

To silence grief — to solace pain — 
^ To soothe and cheer the bed of death. 

His pathway in the battle lies- 
He should not fear the raging flood: 

Give man the breast-plate courage plies, 
But give to woman, fortitude ^ 


'Tis a shadowy region, where close in retreat, 
A dispassionate people unconsciously meet. 
Its pale nations are quiet — exempted from care — 
Xo unhallowed ambition intrudes itself there. 
There's no thirst for dominion— no envy of gain- 
No vain strife for preferment to rankle the brain. 


There bright crowns lose their lustre, and sceptres 
There the slave drops his fetter — the tyrant his sway: 
Power loses its terror and wisdom its charm — 
Fame erases its signet, and beauty its form. 

'Tis a land of deep silence, envelop'd in gloom: 
No soft accents of music enliven the tomb : 
'Tis a dark lonely defile, which none can evade; 
But however unsocial, there's light in its shade, 
Since its all pow'rful Conqueror explor'd its domain, 
And dissolv'd its enchantments, by rising again. 

There's a time-tide at midnight, that flows to the 

And a ti-ack on the desert where others have gone — 
There's a path in the forest, which footsteps have 

And a voice in the thicket, directs to the glade — 
There's a light on the ocean, ascends to the sky, 
And the Grave is life's conduit to mansions on high. 


It has been said by some, that woman* heart 
Should never hate. 

I know, the placid wreath 
Of gentleness, is beautiful upon 

84 POEMS. 

The female brow; and that the pure, white wand 
Of innocence, by woman wielded, has 
A salutary potency, that's far 
Superior to arbitrary power- 
That in her bosom, love's sweet mellow tones 
Are more congenial to the sphere which heav'n 
Design'd for her; than hatred's bitterness. 

I know the worth of woman's rectitude: 
It is the fairest gem upon the crest 
Of social life: and I would not presume 
To step beyond the sacred halo of 
Propriety: But there's one character 
I even dare to hate. And e'en in this 
Age of effeminacy, is there who 
Would say — would think it Ls a crime to hate 
The Tattler, whose unhallow'd business seerns, 
To wake up nonsense and to stir up strife? 

And after all, I feel my heart relax, 
And pity is preponderating in 
My breast. I pity ev'ry human form. 
Degraded with that most detestable. 
And mo>t ignoble trait. Whose head is but 
A vacuum where vanity presides, 
And sits enthron'd o'er pompous nothingness: 
Where, if reflection chance to come, she finds 
No seat — no resting place— no lamp to shine 
Upon her path : but like a traveler. 
When lost in some dark spacious catacomb, 
Amid the mould'ring heaps, to stumble o'er 

POEMS. 85 

Unconscious matter, without path or guide; 
She's lost in everlasting hopelessness. 

Wretched propensity— and wretched the 
Possessor of this bane of social life! 
Whose soul, if soul is there at all; must be 
Unto non-entity so near allied. 
As to require a microscopic i:)Ow'r 
To swell it into visibility. 

But while I pity the possessor, if 
I should not hatey I surely may despise 
The character^ the mean propensity, 
'Tis falsehood's vehicle, and slander's tool 
To throw dark shadows over innocence, 
And magnify misfortune into fault. 
It often serpentinely creeps into 
The sanctuary of domestic life, 
And with the sacred key of confidence. 
Draws out the secrets of the drawing room. 
And puts thera on the morning breeze afloat. 

I hope I never shall commit a crime 
Of such enormous magnitude, as to 
Subject me to endure that frown of heav'n, 
The torment of the Tattler's senseless tongue. 

I'd rather live in solitude, amid 
The deep impervious wilds, and listen to 
The silent speech of Xatui'e; and regale 
My spirit with the music of the breeze. 



Say, have we "fall'n on evil times" — a day 
When Inquisitions hold assumptive sway? 
When law and equity are thrust aside, 
And ermin'd cliques o'er right and justice ride? 

What strange absurdity 'twixt church and state. 
When a Chief Justice claims to legislate 
In men's religious faith — whether express'd, 
Or pent within the brain, and non-confess'd? 
When, for opinion's sake, men must be shrived 
And of the right of cit'zenship deprived! 

Say, who would pillage, rob, or steal your purse? 
Yet thrusts at consciences are grossly worse. 

Mob raids— judicial raids — whatever name 
May be applied, all raids are much the same; 
Altho' an outrage might seem more polite 
Committed in the day, than in the night. 

When human legislation seeks to grind 
The conscience, and religion's form to bind; 
We're fearless of results, for God o'errules 
The acts of men— the wicked are but tools 
To fill a purpose in these latter days, 
For e'en the wrath of man shall work His praise: 
The wicked shall destroy the \%acked when 
His vial'd wrath is pour'd on guilty men. 

To us, as advocates of freedom's cause, 
And loyal subjects to all legal laws, 
'Tis surely no soul-pride-inspiring thing, 
That magistrates are leagued with "whiskey ring," 
And thus degrade the umpire form'd to be 
A safeguard to our peace and liberty. 

Can honor's badge — can honor's titles screen 
Dishonor's deeds and motives false and mean? 

Though high officials prostitute their power- 
Like vampires, peace and liberty devour; 
Shall we the Constitution's Rights forego? 
Truth; Justice, Honor, Freedom, answer NO. 

Truth's mighty engine plac'd upon the track 
By God's decree, no power can force it back. 
What! Stay Truth's onward progress? No! As soon 
Extinguish yonder sun— blot out the moon- 
Remove earth from her orbit, and remove 
The constellations from the arch above; 
As well apply a puny, finite force 
To stop the planets in their brilliant course: 
As well might moles and bats the light defy, 
And seek to pluck the sunbeams from the sky. 

Truth's cause will triumph over all the powers 
Of earth and hell. Ye Saints, HIS cause is ours. 

88 POEMS. 


Time makes no pauses: Eaeli incoming year 
Must shoulder what its predecessor doffs. 

This is an age of liglitning, gas and steam — 
An age of progress, energy and skill: 
When man aspires to wield the elements 
To his advantage. 

Proud in his success, 
He claims the honor of the triumph. God, 
Source of all good— of wisdom, science, art, 
Gets little credit for his gifts bestowed. 

The intellectual progress of the age 
Outstrips accountability; and men 
Let fall the moral lever from their grasp; 
And intidelity and wickedness 
Keep even pace with march of intellect. 
Respect foi justice, truth, integrity 
And honesty, at heavy discount stands. 

The great hereafter, man's eternal all. 
Is by the w^holesale on the altar laid! 
For what? To gratify the passions, and 
The eager — all engrossing thirst for gold. 

Truth, honor, manhood and nobility- 
True confidence, the royal pedestal 

POEMS. 89 

Of life's choice blessing, social happiness, 
With sweet affection's fond endearments in 
Domestic life — the bliss of loving and 
Of being loved in faith and purity, 
Are sacrificed to passion, and for wealth! 

In this fast age of double-motive power, 
Theft, murder, robbery, infanticide 
And foeticide, foul crimes, ignore restraint; 
While prostitution, life's most damning sin, 
Stalks forth in tolerating Christendom, 
With sin's infectious, vile increase, despite 
The many noble efforts to suppress 
It. Woman now, in fearful numbers falls 
A prey to man's base passions — men who spurn 
Pure matrimony's sacred altar — men 
Who perjure every holy vow: and yet 
They boast of virtue, faith and sanctity. 
Such are the men who would obliterate 
The heav'n taught principle of woman's right— 
The universal right — not of a few 
More favor'd ones; but sacred right of all, 
To holy, honorable wedlock. 

Has introduced the pattern; by His law 
Women can fill the measure of their lives 
In virtue, honor and respectability: 
And to themselves, by holy rite reveal'd. 
Secure in time, for all eternity, 
Men who are true to nature and to God. 

90 POEMS. 

If those who're advocating "Woman's Rights,' 
Will plead the right of wedlock for the sex, 
Till public sentiment shall guarantee. 
What God and nature recognize her right — 
The bonds of matrimony, legally 
Performed, and sacredly respected, with 
Virtue inviolate, they'll win a meed 
Of everlasting gratitude and praise. 

War is comprised in tlie dark catalogue 
Of growing evils. Europe's purple streams 
Now flowing, moan o'er Christian nations joined 
In mutual slaughter— legal butchery: 
Is this Christianity? Are these the fruits 
Of the pure gospel of the Son of God? 
Bogus Christianity and bogus faith! 
Worse than alloy— 'tis a base counterfeit 
Of that establish'd by the Prince of Peace. 

But wholesale murder, war, is much in vogue : 
Who slaughters most, the brightest laurels gains; 
And lightning messages with pride announce 
''''Brilliant success,^' and '■'■Splendid victoHes.^^ 
Poor fall'n humanity! Oh, how demoralized! 

If mans existence ended here — if this 
Were all of life allotted; little would 
It matter how or when it comes and goes. 
And how 'tis husbanded: but this is but 
A speck, compared with life hereafter: yet 
'Tis freighted with eternal consequence. 

POEMS. 91 

In Utah, God has formed a nucleus 
Of peace and virtue — a pure government. 
'Tis Heaven's own kingdom — God himself tlie King. 

It was forshadow'd in the visions of 
The ancient prophets. Daniel saw it, and 
Plainly predicted whence it would go foith, 
To conquer Satan's reign and fill the earth. 

Then wars shall cease, and men shall beat their swords 
To plowshares, and to pruning hooks their spears, 
And learn the cruel art of war no more. 

Th' almighty God has said it, and the time. 
His own set time has come; and He has made 
His people's feet fast in these mountain vales, 
For this great, grand and glorious purpose, which 
Not all the powers of earth and hell combined 
Can frustrate. God is at the helm, and He 
Will have a tried and faithful people, who 
Will do his bidding, and co-operate 
With Him and with each other, to sustain 
His kingdom, and inaugurate the reign 
Of everlasting righteousness and peace. 



We'll beat our foes at every game, 

If every game we play: 
No juggling part we act or claim — 

We'll fairly win the daJ^ 
We've sought no trial of our skill— 

The games, wo never set — 
We never made a move until 

They forced the movement, yet. 

But love to disobey — 
Who have eternal light received. 

And from its precepts stray; 
Now cherish wickedness: their hearts 

Are fountains of deceit: 
Apostate " Mormons," in foul parts, 

The world's low gamesters, beat. 

Of all the Apostle Paul endured. 

His perils were the worst. 
When with apostate saints of God, 

"False brethren," he was cursed: 
The gospel, like the fisher's net, 

Cast in the open sea. 
Both good and bad, at every set, 

Draws up promiscuously. 

Then marvel not, ye demagogues, 

Who're making much ado, 
If you by searching, here, should find 

Some even worse than you: 
Extremes in human life, must meet. 

To form a moral test; 
To make gradation's scale complete. 

We've here the u-orst and best. 

We've women whose intelligence — 

Whose loveliness and grace 
And virtues cannot be surpassed 

In all earth's present race: 
With honest frankness we confess, 

We have their contrast too. 
But thanks to God and righteousness, 

The number is but few. 

And we have men by God inspired, 

And clothed ^yith power to bless— 
Their hearts with noble purpose fired— 

Their works are righteousness: 
They teach the principles of peace. 

Life, faith and purity; 
By which the pure in heart increase 

In truth and liberty. 

High-toned in spirit — in their lives 
They're far above reproach— 

They're just, and who should justice fear, 
But those who wish t' encroach? 

94 POEMS. 

All men stand label'd by themselves— 
The actions prove the heart — 

The wicked deal in wickedness— 
The righteous, good impart. 

Though storm-clouds gather over head, 
And sharks the crew assail — 

Though obstacles so thickly spread 
That coward hearts will fail; 

Come wind or calm, 'tis all the same- 
No matter what betide. 

We, fearless, know the Great I AM 
Has pledg'd the ship to guide. 

He needs no sails for Zion's ship; 

Our foes may pause and wonder — 
They move us on at every cb'p, 

And row theii* own crafts under. 
They're tools in God Almighty's hand, 

To drive His work apace — 
To clear the shij) from every strand; 

Their wrath shall work His praise. 

Of our own strength we do not boast — 

Jehovah is our trust; 
The Saints are His — His wisdom rules — 

His arm protects the just. 
Truth, peace and equity will claim 

The prize of latter-day; 
We'll beat the world at every game, 

If every game we play. 



Think you our nation is improving? Hush! 
Or stern realities will make you blush. 

Look here in Utah where the President, 
A juggling class of ermin'd tools, has sent; 
To serve the people's interest? ^o such thing! 
They came to serve themselves: a paltry "ring"— 
To stii- up strife — those sacred rights to sever 
Which our great Constitution grants us ever. 
They came for pelf — to feed their hungry purses 
With the hard earnings nature's hand disburses 
To honest industry and ardent toil; 
They came with greedy hands to take a spoil; 
They came fair virtue's bulwark to destroy, 
And desolate the homes where peace and joy 
And holy confidence had long abided, 
And sacred loyality in truth confided: 
They came — their actions show for what they came, 
And to the nation they're a burning shame, 
Unless the nation widely has \\dthdra\vn 
From the grand pedestal it stood upon. 

Where is the truthful dignity, O where! 
That legal functionaries used to wear? 
Where is the moral rectitude that guided 
Judicial acts, when honest men presided? 


All facts are stubborn, unrelenting things, 
And facts will speak in spite of serfs or kings; 
And Time's impartial verdict will report 
All facts, verbatim, in th' Im^Derial Court. 

Why, in the name of good old common sense, 
Should jurisprudence don a base pretense? 
Has Grant no better stuff at his command- 
No higher priced material on hand? 
Has Government no better class to give. 
And force the Territory to receive? 
If so, our nation's value is expended 
And her career of glory nearly ended. 

Mark well, when statesmen circumvent the claims 
Of equal rights, to serve perfidious aims: 
Corrupt Executives precede a fall — 
They write the *■'■ Mene TekeV on the wall. 

When public offices are bought and sold — 
When jurors' verdicts are the price of gold — 
When men devoid of moral rectitude, 
Shall be intrusted w^ith the people's good— 
When right of conscience stands in jeopardy, 
" Death's in the pot," and breakers on the lee. 

Let her proud flag float half-mast from its spires, 
When Freedom's altars dim their glowing fires. 

S. L. City, 1875. 



The kingdom of God is a kingdom of Order, 
With life in the heart and with power in the head: 

With each member in place, the whole body is perfect: 
Gradation existed w^hen Order was made. 

The kingdom of God is a kingdom of Glory — 

A kingdom of Righteousness — happy and free: 
With Prophets, Apostles — with Statesmen and War- 
The kingdom of God is the kingdom for me. 

The kingdom of God is a kingdom of Power: 
In the midst of oppression its sinews have grown : 

All people who fight against Zion will perish — 
To tread on her peace is to forfeit their own. 

Chokus— The kingdom, etc. 

" The feet of the image, the clay and the iron," 
The kingdom of God, into pieces will break; 

The "brass and the silver " will also be broken: 
Earth's nations shall tremble — her kingdoms 
shall shake. 

Chorus— The kingdom, etc. 




The kingdom of God is a kingdoin of Mercy, 
Where the fountains of charily flow without guile — 

Where law-detained captives are treated with kindness, 
And penitence' hand is received with a smile. 

Chorus— The kingdom, etc. 

The kingdom of God is a kingdom of Justice, 
Where Rights are secured to the great and the small — 

Where judicial decisions are wise and impartial — 
Where truth is the sceptre, extended to all. 

Chorus— The kingdom, etc. 

The kingdom of God is a kingdom of Valor — 

The warriors of Israel are valiant and brave: 
They quail not in war, and they shrink not in danger— 
O'er them and their Temples, bright banners will 

Chorus — The kingdom, etc. 

The kingdom of God is a kingdom of Conquest, 
To which every knee of all nations must bow; 

For the law of the Lord will go forth from Mount 
His word will go forth from Jerusalem too. 

Chorus— The kingdom, etc. 

The kingdom of God holds the keys of Salvation 
For life that is now, and the lives yet to be; 

With the gifts and the powers of Eternal Progression 
Of kingdoms in kingdoms, eternally free. 
Chorus— The kingdom, etc. 



Pure is life's fountain— pure the Eternal Source 
From whence the streamlets take their varied course — 
Pure and unsullied as the burning zone, 
That with bright glory, belts Jehovah's throne. 

From that pure fountain, endless currents flow; 
From world to world; meandermg down they go 
To earth, where sin diffuses pois'nous breath. 
And through life's channels, plants the seeds of death. 

God is the fountain. — He th' eternal mart — 
The ocean-spring from which all life-rills start; 
Pure as His Spirit, life, from Him came forth, 
Until, by man, corrupted on the earth. 

Little by little, sin and empire gain'd, 
Until disorder, vice and folly reign'd; 
And, fill'd with vile degeneration's stuff, 
Life and its issues are impure enough. 

bought but Omnipotence' almighty force 
Could stay the ebbing current in its course: 
'Twas sin's dark tide that ebb'd life's currents low; 
The Priesthood comes — henceforth the tides must flow. 

100 POEMS. 

Regeneration now is on the track, 

To cleanse the streams of life, and bring them back: 

The proper channel gain'd — however slow, 

Life now is moving in an upward flow. 

Howe'er impure the streams of life may be. 
The Priesthood's channel tends to purity. 
Till, through the resurrection, pure and broad 
Life's mighty rivers skirt the throne of God. 


Our God, our Father and our Friend- 
God of Eternity; 

To Thine abode, my thoughts ascend- 
My spirit pants for Thee. 

I am Thy child and lawful heir 
To all that's good and great; 

Jointly, %vith Jesus Christ, to share 
Thy rich, immense estate. 

I am Thy child, and what, to me, 

Is all the glittering show 
Of this world's transient royalty, 

Beset with care and woe? 

POEMS. 101 

I am Thy child, and Thou hast given 

A law of purity, 
By which I'll wend my way to heaven, 

And dwell again with Thee. 

To think— to feel— to know I'm Thine, 
Through every fibre thrills; 

And witti a glow of life divine, 
Each pulse of nature fills. 

To Thee belongs the sweetest praise 
Expressed by human tongue — 

To Thee, the most exalted lays, 
By pure immortals sung. 

I am Thy child: let me discern 
Thy footsteps as they move: 

Help me, through faithfulness, to earn 
A fulness of Thy love. 


Man's tide of existence is fearfully chang'd — 
From God, and from nature, how widely estrang'd! 
Vii'e, dandled by custom, mocks nature's designs, 
And existence decreases where virtue declines. 

102 POEMS. 

Wejwak^iiito being — How feelpless at birth! 
How short, at the longest, our visit on earth! 
Too short to develop (we merely begin) 
The germ of the Deity, planted within. 

As a father transmits from the father to son, 
So God, our Creator, our Father has done: 
There's no attribute, God in his gloritied form, 
Possesses, but man, too, inherits the germ. 

Though frail and imperfect, unlearn'd and unwise. 
We're endowed with capacities needful to rise 
From our embryo state, onward, upward— at length, 
To a fulness of knowledge — of wisdom and strength. 

Man becomes his own agent, with freedom to choose, 
With pow'r to accept and witli pow'r to refuse; 
With a future before him, the sequel of life, 
To which this is a preface with consequence rife. 

He uiayLUfiarn Jipwjo strengthen this life's feeble 
And redeem the longevity man should obtain— 
Develop capacity, greatness and worth, 
By improving himself and improving the earth. 

He should squander no talent, no health and no time; 
All, all is important— age, manhood and prime: 
As we sow we shall reap — what we earn we'll receive — 
We'll be judged by our worTcs, not by what we believe. 

We now lay the foundations for what- we shall be, 
Forjiie's current extends to Eternity's sea; 

POEMS. 103 

Whaterer ennobles,~debases, refines, 
Around our hereafter, an impress entwines. 

We're the offspring of God: Shall we stoop to degrade 
The form which at first in His image was made? 
To honor our bt^ings and callings, while here, 
Secures an admission to life's higher sphere. 

In the likeness of Deity, gracefully formed, 
With His own noble attributes, richly adorned; 
For a grand immortality, man is designed- 
Perfected in body— perfected m mind. 


Our life abounds with mingled light and shade— 
The good and evil mix in ev'ry grade; 
Full oft the bitter and the sweet combine, 
And prickly thorns, with fragrant roses twine- 
Thistles commingle oft with lovely flowers. 
And coiling serpents bask in pleasure's bowers. 

The Saints of God, themselves to prove, 

And on the earth prepare, 
To enter royal courts above, 

And dwell in glory there, 

104 POEMS. 

Must both the light and darkness view- 
Sunshine and tempest meet: 

Must taste the good and evil too — 
The bitter and the sweet. 

It matters not what ills we may surmount, 
If we but turn them all to good account; 
If we draw honey like the "Deseret" 
From all the pois'nous things our paths beset. 
And if we pattern from the bee, 
We'll treasure for Eternity, 
Some real good — some precious sweet 
From everv circumstance we meet. 

Whate'er of the substance of earth we lay by, 
Like the dew of the morning, is subject to fly: 
Be it little or much, what experience we gain. 
Let us go where we will we are sure to retain. 

If kings and queens we ever rise to be, 
Thro'outthe changes of Eternity, 
'Tis well for us, while here in time to learn 
To know ourselves, and others to discern. 

To study the dealings and ways of the Lord 
In each passing occurrence of life. 

To each student, will yield a prolific reward. 
With wisdom's best precedents, i-ife. 

See that lean miser, whose sparse, meagre board 
Weeps with starvation o'er his glitt'ring hoard; 
His soul absorb'd, his future gains to plan. 
Holds no kind fellowship for fellow man — 

POEMS. 105 

His wither'd heart, unstamp'd in friendship's mould, 
Bears no affinity to aught but gold. 

At length the call is issued from on high — 
In spite of all his riches, he must die; 
!Naked, and poor as Job — of all bereft — 
All the hard earnings of his life are left; 
Having bestow'd no treasures on his mind, 
He goes and leaves his wealth — his aU, behind, 
Except to know that he has played the fool; 
And now, the ignoramus goes to school. 

See the vain butterfly that courted show — 
Fluttering and dazzling here awhile below : 
Death came — it metamorphos'd her — she's there — 
And needs a microscope to show us where. 

What is life's gaudy splendor — its pride and its show' 
They are just like the bubbles that burst as they go: 
And what are the honors the world applauds high? 
Things ready to perish — they live but to die. 

If substantial happiness we would win, 
Not to come and to go, as the tide; 

We must plant the principle deep within. 
And cherish'd the gem will abide. 

And God has kindly given to us a law. 
By which we may sweet consolation draw, 
From scenes of sadnes, sorrow and distress — 
From all the ills, which heart and life oppress. 
The right to acknowledge His own kind hand, 

In all that transpires on earth — 
This, this unto those who can understand, 

Is a boon of celestial worth. 


The church below, 

Satan has sought 

To overthrow — 

To bring to nought; 
But ev'ry evil purpose has been foiled — 
Aggressions, on aggressors, have recoiled. 

God over-rules 

Malice and hate; 

Foes are but tools 

To make us great; 
All who, mid fog and thunder, will be wise, 
O'er every billow, will victorious rise. 

Fear and alarm 

May spread abroad— 

Nothing will harm 

The Saints of God. 
Those who are Saints of God in very deed, 
Will find a present help in time of need. 

Our eye to the mark, we must steadily keep. 

As the waves of change roll by; 
Like a well steer'd ship on the mighty deep, 

When the winds and seas beat high. 

With God, Himself, at the helm, to steer— 

With His servants side by side; 
The storm and the Ijillows, we need not fear. 

For the ship will safely ride. 

On, onward, in spite of the breakers ahead, . 

With the banner of life unfurl'd — 
With all truth for our motto, with fearless tread. 

We'll march at the Lead of the world. 



I pity those who know no happiness, 
But what the transient things of earth produce: 
Whose servile minds, by close affinity, 
Seem bound to the low sod on which they tread: 
And whose unstable feelings, like the waves 
Of ocean; rise and fall, and ebb and flow, 
With every up and down — with ev'ry change 
Of circumstance. — Whose present weal is the 
Grand fulcrum, round which all their hopes and fears 
Are moving unremittingly. — Whose joys 
And sorrows may be measured by their loss 
And gain of worldly substance; while their hearts, 
So narrowly drawn up, and press'd into 
The stinted centers of their narrow spheres; 
Seem like the witliered buds of Spring, too soon 
Put forth, and smitten by th' untimely frost. 

I've wept o'er human suff'ring, when I've heard 
My fellow creatures groan beneath the weight 
Of bodily disease — when nature sank 
Exhausted — when e'en life itself became 
A load that press'd too heavily upon 
The weak, disorder'd organs of the frame. 

Such evils claim our sympathy; yet bear 
No parallel to those disorders of 


The human mind, which circumscribe to earth, 
The sphere of human intellect: when thought, 
Transfix'd to nether objects, never soars 
Beyond the limits of the present life. 

I've seen the young, with noble pow'rs of mind, 
Thatshould have reach'd to heav'n; low stooping down 
In search of some forbidden key, t' unlock 
The glitt'ring heaps that Mammon's coffers hold. 

O yes, and I have seen the aged ones. 
Upon whose heads tlie silver coronets. 
With plain inscriptions, told their lengthen 'd years 
Were hov'ring o'er the margin of the grave; 
Let go their hold of future blessedness, 
To lay their trembling grasp more firmly on 
The fleeting treasures of departing time. 

If tears could ought avail— could tears prevent 
Such strange perversions of the gifts bestow'd; 
I would exclaim, 4ike one of ancient time, 
"Oh, that my head were waters, and my eyes 
A fountain:" and I'd weep — yes, I would weep. 



The year is stepping out, regardless of 
My long, long distance from my "Mountain Home.' 
It leaves me in Italia's " sunny clime," 
Where verdant foliage, gentle breezes kiss, 
And balmy zephyrs fan the evening tide. 

The year now passing out, has, in its course 
In liberal portions, meted out to me, 
The wide extremes of deep bereavement,* and 
Munificence in richly flowing streams, 
Which I acknowledge freely, ere we part. 

All grateful reminiscences, the old. 
Expiring year inscribes indelibly 
On mem'ry's sacred tablet, richly wreathed 
With choice mementos of the good produced — 
Of vict'ries, truth and justice have achieved — 
Improvement's progress in the march of mind, 
And every aid to poor humanity ; 
While its successor treads upon its heels. 

Good bye, old year. We both are moving on: 
You, to the cloister of the mighty Past, 
To join it to the future, yet unborn; 
I, to the far-famed land of Palestine, 

■■' Referring to the death of my beloved sister. 


Which has a history of the past, that bears 
With a momentous and eternal weight, 
Of destiny to all of human kind. 
Upon the future, which the passing years, 
With hurried tread, ere long will introduce 
With bold, magnificent developments. 

I go to place my feet upon the land 
Where once the Prince of Peace, the Son of God 
Was born — where once He lived and walked and 

And prayed, admonished, taught, rebuked and blest; 
And then, to answer Justice's great demand, 
And seal his mission of Eternal Love, 
Upon the cross poured out his precious blood — 
Arose to life, triumphant o'er the tomb| 
And after being seen and heard and felt. 
Ascended up to heav'n; and, as He went, 
Those who stood looking, heard an angel say, 
*' Ye men of Gallilee, why stand ye here 
Gazing to heaven ? The selfsame Jesus., whom 
Ye see ascending^ in like manner^ will 
Again descend.''^ 

Each year that passes on, 
Clips from the thread of time, a portion of 
Its intervening length, and hurries up 
The coming great and grand fulfilment of 
The strange prediction — strange, and true as strange. 

That most momentous period for the great 
Event, is fast approximating, and 


The moving of the waters now, amidst 
The nations of the earth, like deepest shades 
Of pencil drawings, seems foreshadowing 
The world's great crisis. 

Human policies 
Grow tremulous; while human governments, 
With tender care, are fondly fostering. 
And feeding with their life's best nourishment, 
The seeds of their own dissolution. 

Is poising on a pivot. England rests 
On her broad pedestal, but resting, moves 
With vaccinating tendencies. The famed 
Italia, stands in leaning posture from 
The Papal Chair to King Emanuel; 
While Russia, beckoning to Austria — 
To Germany, or whosoever will, 
Solicits aid to lift the balances 
Of power, now lying just beyond her reach. 

The wires of destiny are working on. 
To consummate eternal purposes. 
And bring results of change, tliat must precede 
" The second coming of the Sou of Man, 
When, unto Him, " ivhose right it is to reign^^^ 
All human powers and governments will bow. 

:Milan, Italy, Jan. 1, 1873. 



Beneath high, villa-dotted hills, 

That in succession rise 
Like rich, gemmed parapets around, 

The lovely Florence lies. 

The Arno, broad and gentle stream, 
That flows meandering through, 

Divides, though in unequal parts, 
The city plat, in two. 

I've seen its princely palaces 

Where wealth and ease reside- 
Where independence fills her sails 
With luxury and pride. 

I see you, Florence, all the while, 

So beautiful and gay, 
I ask. Is this your common dress. 

Or, this your holiday? 

Be wise: and while their golden showers 
The bounteous heav'ns distil; 

Avoid debasing luxury — 
Prolific source of ill. 


The crown of peace is on your head — 
Its wreath around your brow; 

The royal banner newly spread, 
Waves proudly o'er you now. 

Florence, Italy, Jan. 10, 1873. 


I have stood on the shore of the beautiful sea, 
The renowned and immortalized Galilee, 
When t'was wrapp'd in repose, at eventide 
Like a royal queen in her conscious pride. 

No sound was astir— not a murmuring wave — 
Not a motion w^as seen, but the tremulous lave, 
A gentle lieave of the water's crest — 
As the infant breathes on a mother's breast. 

I thought of the present — the past: it seemed 
That the silent Sea, with instruction teem'd; 
For often, indeed, the heart can hear 
What never, in sound has approached the ear. 

Full oft has silence been richly fraught 
•With treasures of wisdom, and stores of thought. 
With sacred, heavenly whisperings, too, 
That are sweeter than roses, and honey dew. 

114 POEMS. 

There's a depth in the soul, that's beyond the reach 

Of all earthly sound — of all human speech, 

A fiber too sacred and pure, to chime 

With the cold, dull music of Earth and Time. 

'Tis the heart's receptacle, nought can supply, 
But the streams that flow from the fount on high. 
An instinct divine, of immortal worth. 
An inherited gift, through primeval birth. 

Agaiii) when the shades of night, were gone, 
In the clear, bright rays of the morning dawn, 
I walked on the bank of this selfsame Sea, 
Where once, our Redeemer w^as wont to be. 

Where, "Lord save, or T perish, "was Peter's prayer, 
Befitting the w^eak and the faithless elsewhere. 
And here while admiring this Scriptural Sea, 
Th' bold vista of Tiule, brought th' past up to me; 

Embos'd with events when the Prince of Life, 
Endured this world's hatred — its envy and strife; 
When, in Him, the Omnipotent was revealed, 
And, by Him, the wide breach of the law, was healed. 

The gates, He unbarred, and led the w^ay. 
Through the shadow of death, to the courts of day: 
And "led captivity captive," when 
"He ascended on high, and gave gifts unto men." 

Damascus, Syria, March 17, 1873. 


POEMS. 115 


'Tis the evening of Time, and it is not strange 
That change should tread on the heels of Change. 

Upheaving events, like a swelling surge. 
Are moving onward to Time's last verge; 
And vortex-like, in their foaming haste, 
WiU swallow the nations or lay them waste. 


The present transit across the plains. 
Compared \\ath the early " Mormon trains." 
Is much like the antelope's fleety race 
Compared with the terrapin's burden'd pace. 

■;•:- * * -:■:- * * -» 

Tliey thrust us out — we were sent adrift 
In untrodden wilds to make a shift: 
Our pioneer men were brave and bold — 
They trusted in God like tlie saints of old— 
Though slow their progress, their foot-prints tell, 
They fill'd their mission, and fill'd it well. 
No heart was faint and no hand was slack, 
As they felt out the way and mark'd the track. 
'Tvv^as said of them (it is verily true,) 
They did what no other men could do. 

But change has swept o'er their path since then. 
And smothered the track of the pioneer men, 
Who " made the bridges and killed the snakes," 
As they wended their way to the mountain lakes. 

116 tOEMS. 

In the pathless desert's unbeating heart, 
We awoke a pulse and we formed a mart: 
We discover'd gold, but we valued more 
The produce of soil, than the shining ore: 
We tilled the earth and produc'd the bread 
On which the stranger has freely fed; 
For we were not long in our wild redoubt, 
Ere multitudes follow'd where we led out. 

As Change march 'd on, the electric wire, 
With its lightning pulse and its heart of fire, 
Mov'd on in our wake successfully and 
Unites us again with our father land. 
With lightning speed — with its pow'r compress'd, 
We can speak to the East — we can speak to the West; 
And then, at our leisure, with social ease. 
Can chat with the settlements when we please. 

'Tis the evening of Time and results wiU prove 
That Change with a hasty step should move. 
The ungodly nations of every land. 
That wait his coming may fear his hand. 
While Change is tilling the world with fear, 
He comes with a smiling visage here; 
With a noble brow and a look of pride. 
He walks in our midst with a haughty stride. 

Electric speed is now all the rage — 
'Tis truly a fast and racy age. 
The "iron horse" with its fieiy gear. 
With a mighty rush is now coming here. 

To clip time and distance, the rail and wire, 
With artistic effort and skill, conspire; 

POEMS. 117 

And Change is combining a powerful team 
Of the lightning flash and the puffing steam, 
Which, boldly harness'd and train'd to chime, 
Ignore aU distance and laugh at time. 
The President's Message, a wreath of gold. 
Was spread on our tables a few hours old. 

The eastern cities their hats may doff— 
The " Mormons" are now but a few days off". 
And every day are stni dra^\■ing near. 
As the "iron horse" is approaching here. 

Let the Saints awake — let the world prepare 
For coming events: There's no time to spare: 
'Tis the evening of Time, and the hours are few, 
And change has very much yet to do. 

Salt Lake City, 1869. 


The ship was launched: It was forced to ride 
O'er the surges that lined the shore: 
It battled hard with the wind and tide. 
While the breakers heaved up before. 


The ship is on the ocean 

With its crew, and freight of souls — 
With th' Priesthood's unerring compass 

Which points to the upper poles. 

Hold fast to the ship, for the waves run high, 
And a storm is gathering in the sky: 
Hold fast to the Ship— keep your eye ahead 
Huge sharks loom up from the ocean's bed: 
Around th' Ship's prow and th' mizzen mast, 
The croaking gulls are collecting fast; 
But th' mighty Captain to port has gone, 
And the Ship in his wake is moving on. 

Hold on to the Ship, for often a boat, 
With a pirate's crew, alongside will float, 
To allure the unwary ones away, 
Like a wreck, to float on th' wind-beaten spray. 

God, himself is the Mariner: Who should fear? 
The Ship will each maelstrom and iceberg clear: 
It never has stranded — it never will strand. 
Tho' bombarded by sea and bombarded by land. 

There's no cabin passage on Zion's ship: 

It was never designed for a pleasure trip; 

But for expeditions of life-long work. 

With no badges of honor for them that shirk. 

There is work on board, of every kind— 

There's work for the body and work for the mind— 

For the will, the sinews, the head and the heart; 

And the duty of each is to bear a part: 

POEMS. 119 

Whatever the labor, though light or hard, 
There's a strict, proportionate, just reward. 

'Tis a voyage of discipline formed to prove 
And prepare the good, for a life of love; 
For the Ship bears a heavenly embassy. 
To provide for the world's great Jubilee. 

Life's billows are foaming with vice and crime. 

And this is the Lord's last fishing time. 

The fruition of joy and triumph will be 

On the heav'n-ward side of this time-bound sea. 

The waters are deep and the ocean wide. 

But the harbor is safe on the other side; 

Pure life with the curse removed, crowns the shore. 

With Eternity's fulness forevermore. 


Columbia, my country! The land of my birth and 
the boast of my youthful pride! 

My love for thee, mingled with the warm pulses of 
my childhood — it was inherited from my noble ances- 
tors who periled their lives and bravely fought for 
thy independence — it grew with my growth as a legiti- 
mate portion of my nature. 

120 POEMS. 

Thou hast been as a beacon of light to other nations — 
a palladium of liberty and an asylum for the oppressed. 
Then thy broad bosom, warmed with compassion for 
the homeless — thou didst open wide thy heart to shelter 
persecuted outcasts from distant lands. 

Thou didst choose wise men for statesmen — men with 
souls, who were not greedy after selfish gain, but were 
true to thy interests, and held thy honor dearer than 
theii' life. 

With them, thou didst establish a government on the 
grand platform of civil and religious liberty, guaran- 
teeing equal rights; and to procure its perpetuity, thou 
didst frame and bequeath a glorious and sacred Consti- 
tution, which was prom^jted by the inspiration of the 
Most High. 

Thy standard was emblazoned with the insigma of 
peace; and on its lofty spire which towered amid the 
skies, waved the glorious banner of freedom, which 
was unsoiledby the hand of oppression, and unstained 
A\ith the blood of innocence. 

Then, thy courts and seats of justice, and thy congress 
halls were receptacles of trust and confidence. 

Union and happiness prcvaded thy interior, and a 
crowTi of glory encu'cled thy brow; thy name was held 
in honor abroad: proud and haughty nations gazed 
with admiration at thy prosperity; they bowed respect- 
fully to the noble magnanimity of thy character, and 
marveled at the harmonious workings of thine institu- 
tions. , 

Such thou wert as I remember thee; and then my 


young heart swelled with joyous pride that I was an 
American citizen. 

But alas! alas! a great change has come over thee: 
and now, with subdued pride, I am forced to exclaim : 
" How is the mighty fallen!" 

Where is thy Washington — thy Jefferson and thine 
Adams of former years? Where now the respect and 
loyality with which they adhered to, and honored the 
glorious Constitution? 

When two of thy noblest sons — those whom God liad 
raised up to be benefactors of the age, were assassinated 
in Carthage jail; thou didst, not only forfeit thine own 
plighted faith to them, and complacently fold thy 
hands in silent sanction, but thou didst throw thy 
mantle of protection around the foul perpetrators of 
the horrid deed. 

Alas! for thee, my Country! Inconsistency is glaring 
in thine acts — with one hand thou dost extend liberty, 
and profiler protection to the negro in the South; while, 
with the oilier thou dost seize, and wrest from a por- 
tion of thy most loyal subjects who, after having been 
thrust from thy presence, have opened for thee a path 
in the desert; the dearest privileges and the most sacred 
rights conferred by the Goddess of Liberty. 

There is no cloak for thy shame: The stain of inno- 
cent blood is on thy armorial escutcheon — degeneracy 
is visibly depicted in thy countenance — rottenness is 
in thy bones— thy joints tremble by reason of weak- 
ness, and thou art terribly diseased in thine inward 
Thou hast even acknowledged thine own imbecility; 


122 POEMS. 

for when a portion of thine own children who had been 
cruelly persecuted and smitten, cried unto thee for help 
— humbly claiminjy thy parental protection, thou didst 
coldlj^ and deliberately say to them, " Your cause is 
just, but I can do nothing for you.'''' 

Tell it not in Europe — publish it not on the continent 
of Asia, lest the monarchs of the world laugh, and the 
subjects of despots have thee in derision. 

And yet, thou art not wholly fallen; To thine honor 
be it spoken: thou hast a few, who, like the Daniel of 
old, boldly dare to stand up in defense of justice, and 
oppose the annihilation of peace and citizenship; and 
their names will be registered in the archives of the 

My Country, O, my Country! my heart bleeds for 
thee— I mourn thy corruption and degradation — thy 
glory has departed — thy fame is extinguished — thy 
peace and honor, swindled; and "the dear old flag" 
which once floated in glorious majesty, is now slowly 
and solemnly undulating at halfinast, as a requiem of 
thy departed liberty, which thou hast sacrificed on the 
shrine of political emolument. 

And now, mark it — write it with an iron pen — en- 
grave it indelibly in the rocks— a day of retribution 
awaits thee. Think not thou can'st measure arms with 
the Almighty — think not thy strength sufificient to 
cope with Omnipotence. 

September, 1870. 



Could our country's noble sages, 
Who have gone to reap their wages, 
Reap rewards for their well doing, 
When on earth they were pursuing 
This great nation's peace and honor 
In erecting Freedom's banner; 
Could they get one full expression 
Of our Congress' present session — 
Could they take one single peep in, 
They would surely fall to weeping. 

They would weep and blush and wonder 
At the noisy wind and thunder — 
At the boisterous, wrathy prattle — 
At the steam and tittle tattle — 
At the ghosts with human faces. 
Filling honorable places. 

Could our Washington and Adams, 
Jefferson and other sages, 
Look upon the present scenery, 
With its underwire machinery — 
All the multiform dissentions 
Of the multiplied conventions; 


Some intent on office seeking — 
Some intent on money eking — 
All mix'd up in twists and jangles, 
All absorb'd in wordy wrangles. 

Could they take one squint at Utah, 
See the army made a cat's paw 
Just to drain the nation's coffers. 
To appease the scoundrels' offers — 
Just to fatten speculators. 
Base, blood-thirsty instigators. 
Who blew hard to raise a bubble — 
Who created all the trouble — 
See the " Mormons" scourg'd like minions 
For their worship and opinions; 
Just one glance would make them wonder 
If the nation had gone under. 
And our country's boasted White House 
Metamorphos'd to a light-house, 
A tall beacon, just to show their 
Once "fam'd liberty" is now^here — 
That the freedom of men's conscience, 
Guaranteed to us, is nonsense. 

If they look for " Rights" as equal, 
As they hop'd for in the sequel 
Of their hardships and privations — 
Of their wise deliberations. 
When the government they founded — 
When the trump of peace they sounded; 
They would think their labors wasted 
And the fruits thereof, untasted — 

POEMS. 125 

That altlio' their deeds are boasted, 
And their names on way-marks posted; 
They are virtually forgotten, 
And the Constitution rotten. 


Written for the 'lAth of Juli/y 1871, on the occa-'iion of a 
grand Celebration., held in Ogden City {in which 
many citizctvs of Salt Lake City participated, Pre>si- 
dent D. H. Wells being Orator of the day)., in com- 
memoration of the arrival of the Pioneers in Salt 
Lake Valley., on the 2-itli of July., 1847. 

[Read by Col. D. McKenzie. 

Latter-Da Y Saixt Ladies of Utah: 

The day we celebrate is a very important one. Im- 
portant not only to the Latter-day Saints, as a people, 
but also highly important to all the nations of the earth. 

The arrival of the Pioneers in these valleys, is an 
event which history will repeat with emphasis to all 
succeeding generations. It formed the starting point — 
the commencement of a delightful oasis in the desert 
wilds of North America — of establishing a midway set- 
tlement between Eastern and western civilization, a 


connecting overland link, between the rich agricultural 
products of the Atlantic and the undeveloped mineral 
treasures of the Pacific. Aljove all, and of consequence 
of far greater magnitude, it was securing a foothold 
for the establishment of the Kingdom of God— a gov- 
ernment of i)eace— a home for the exiled Saints, and 
for the oppressed of all nations — a reservoir of freedom 
and religious toleration, where the glorious flag of 
liberty now waves triumphantly; and where thesacred 
Constitution which our noble forefathers were instru- 
mental in forming under the inspiration of the Al- 
mighty, shall be cleansed from every stain cast uix)n 
it by degenerate Executives, and he i)reserved inviolate. 
This in fulfillment of a prediction by the iirophet 
Joseph Smith. Long before political faction had 
reared its hydra-head in the midst of our Republican 
Government— long before the intrigues of selfish, dis- 
loyal, unscrupulous, sj^eculating, peace-destroying, 
office-seeking demagogues had attained to their present 
hideous proportions, I heard the prophet say, "The 
time will come when the Government of these United 
States will be so nearly overthrown through its own 
corruption, that the Constitution will hang, as it were, 
by a single hair, and the Latter-Day Saints— the Elders 
of Israel— will step forward to its rescue and save it." 

• Ladies, please allow me to address you b3^ the more 
endearing appellation of sisters. We have the privi- 
lege of uniting with our brethren in twining a garland 
with which to decorate the stately brow of this auspici- 
ous day. Why should we not? What interests have 
we that are not in common with theirs, and what have 

POEMS. 127 

they that are disconnected M-ith ours? We know of 
none, and we feel assured that they have no more 
interests involved in the settlement of these vaUeys 
than ourselves. Who is better qualified to appreciate 
the blessings of peace than woman? And where on 
earth is woman so highly privileged as associated with 
the .Saints in Utah, and where else, on earth, is female 
virtue held so sacred, antl where so bravely defended? 
Facts answer, nowhere! 

It is to the Gospel of Jesus Christ that we are indebted 
for the blessings wo enjoy; and how lamentable it is to 
see women of the world, who, ostensibly aiming to im- 
prove society, ignore its divinity and trifle with its 
sacred truths! Reforms established on such a basis, 
would, if successful, dissolve every tie and oljliterafe 
all that is dear to the heart of a virtuous, liigh-aimin<;f 

The Gospel in its mutilated forms, as now held by 
the religious sects of the day, has done much towards 
the elevation of woman; and what will it not do, when 
fully illustrated in its purity and power, as it was in- 
troduced by its great Founder, and as it has been again 
restored in our day? We should bear in mind that, as 
yet, its practice is but imperfectly developed. Although 
perfect principles may be readily enunciated, it is a 
slow process, and one that requu-es time, for a people 
with minds filled with all the false traditions of the age, 
and with habits commingling the most extreme oppo- 
sites, to attain to perfection in practice. But this is an 
event which, although it may be far in the distance, is 

128 POEMS. 

surely before us, for we know we have the true start- 
ing point. 

With hearts overllowing with gratitude to God for 
the blessings of this day, and for the bright prospect of 
the future before us, let us take a retrospective view, and 
inquire if we were not in concert with our brethren, 
and with them mstrumental in the hand of 
God, in bringing about the interesting event we 
are now celebrating. Who can calculate the worth 
of cheerful submission to privation — the patient 
endurance of, hardships — the heroic fortitude in 
surmounting difficulties which our sisters mani- 
fested ,and how much weight they had in encourag- 
ing our brethren when under trying circumstances? 
Who can toll how much intluence the unyielding faith 
and fervent prayers of the mothers, wives and sisters 
had with Him "who hears the young ravens when 
they cry," in strengthening the brave hearts and hands 
of the noble Pioneers who opened up a path in the 
trackless desert? 

Let us take a glance of reminiscence at the time 
when, after our expulsion from Nauvoo, and while 
wending our weary way as outcasts, the United States 
Government made the most unreasonable and unpre- 
cedented requisition known in the annals of history, 
on our traveling camps, by demanding 500 of our most 
efficient men — ordering them to march immediately to 
Mexico, of which this Territory was then the north-east- 
ern part, to assist m the acquisition of territory, and to 
establish there that dishonored flag, from under the 
protection of which, we had recently been forced to 

POEMS. 129 

fly. Some of those noble women yet live, while others 
have gone to reap the reward of their labors; who, 
while their husbands, sons and brothers were perform- 
ing military service and exposing their lives in Mexico, 
forced by cruel necessity, took the position of teamsters 
and drove to the mountains. With manj' similar mat- 
ter of fact proofs which might be enumerated, who can 
doubt that " Mormon women" are equal to any and all 
emergencies? Tlie great questions relative to woman's 
sphere, etc., which are making some stir in the world 
abroad, have no influence ^^ith us. While we realize 
that we are called to be co-workers with our brethren 
in the great work of the last days, we realize that we 
have no occision to clamor about equality, or to battle 
for supremacy. We understand our true position— God 
has defined the sphere of woman wherever Jlis Priest- 
hood is acknowledged; and although we are not at 
present living up to all our privileges, and fulfilling 
all the duties that belong to our sex, the field is open 
before us, and we are urged to move forward as fast as 
we can develoj) and apply our own capabilities. But 
we never shall be called to officiate in unwomanly 
positions. Although invested with the right of suffrage, 
we shall never have occasion to vote for lady legis- 
lators or for lady congressmen, from the fact that the 
kingdom of God, of which we are citizens, will never 
be deficient in a supply of good and wise men to fill 
governmental positions, and of brave men for warriors. 

How very different our position from that of our 
sisters in the world at large, and how widely different 
our feelings and prospects from that class known as 


"strong-minded," who are strenuously and unflinch- 
ingly advocating "woman's rights," and some of 
them, at least, claiming "woman's sovereignity" and 
vainly flattering themselves with the idea that with 
ingress to the ballot box and access to financial ofiices, 
they shall accomplish the elevation of woman-kind. 
They seem utterly blind and oblivious to an element 
incorporated with their platform, which, in its nature, 
is calculated to sap the foundation of all on earth that 
can impart happiness and stiibility to the domestic and 
social circles. 

Wo are well aware that society needs purifying, but 
for tliem to think of bettering its condition by thejcourse 
and measures they are aj)plying is like the blind lead- 
ing the blind. 

With all their efforts to remove the curse 
Matters are yearly growing worse and worse: 
Thej^ can as well unlock without a key, 
. As change the the tide of man's degen'racy. 
Without the Holy Priesthood — 'tis at most 
Like reck'ning bills in absence of the host. 

Not that we are opposed to woman sufl'rage. Cer- 
tainly Congress cannot be actiug consistently with 
itself to Avithold suffrage from woman after having con- 
ferred it on the negro, the recent subject of abject 
slavery. But to think of a war of sexes which the 
woman's rights movement would inevitably inaugu- 
rate,entailing domestic feuds and contentions for supre- 
macy, with a corresponding " easy virtue" and dissolu- 
tion of the marriage tie, creates an involuntary shud- 

POEMS. 131 

der! "Order is heaven's first law," and it is utterlj-^ 
impossible for order to exist without organization, and 
no organization can be effected without gradation. Our 
standard is as far above theirs,as the pattern of heavenly 
things is above the earthly. We have already attained 
to an elevation in nobility and purity of life, which 
they can neither reach nor comprehend, and yet they 
call us " degraded." We cannot descend to their stand- 
ard; we have a high destiny to till. It is fo^- us to set the 
world an example of the highest and most perfect 
types of womanhood. 

Mothers and sisters have great influence in moidding 
the characters of the coming men, either for good or evil . 
All the energies of woman's soul should be brought 
into exercise in the important work of cultivating, edu- 
cating and refining the rising generation. Example 
is more effectual than precept — both are requisite. In 
this direction woman has not only acknowledged 
"rights," but momentous duties, and such as require 
all the strength of mind and firmness of purpose as 
have culminated in the epithet, " strong-minded." I 
cannot think that woman was ever endowed wdth too 
much strength of mind, if properly directed— it is the 
perversion of its uses, and misapplication of abilities 
which have occasioned the odium. It is impossible 
for either men or women to possess too much knowl- 
edge, endowed with too much capability, Jprovided 
they are applied to legitimate purposes. Would any 
sensible man take pride in announcing that his wife, 
sister or daughter was weak-minded, silly and effemi- 


According to history, most of the men who have be- 
come illustrious as benefactors of mankind, were sons 
of wise, noble and intelligent mothers. President 
Young says " woman is the mainspring and the way- 
mark of society." It was justlj' remarked, ''show me 
the women of a nation, and 1 ^yi\l describe the character 
of that nation." Admitting so much for woman's in- 
fluence, what care should be taken in the cultivation of 
the daughter^ of Zion as the future mothers of a mighty 
generation! They should be taught to fix their stand- 
ard of character as far above the level of those of the 
outside world as is the altitude they inhabit. They 
should early establish a firmness of integrit^'^ surpass- 
ing the durability of the impregnable mountains which 
surround us. Wisely instructed, and with proper 
habits of thought and reflection, they would despise to 
be seen aping the foolish, extravagant and disgusting 
fashions of the godless gentile world. They would 
scorn to imitate the strange disfiguring of t)ie j)hysical 
structure which jeopardizes health. A stylish, fashion- 
able lady of the present day, presents more the appear- 
ance of a beast of burden, a camel or dromedary 
heavily laden, than the elegant, dignified, graceful 
form in which God created woman. Dress is admitted 
to be an index to the mind. Good taste is much better 
exhibited in a plain costume than in an extravagant 
mass of superfluities. 

]May such high and holy aspirations be kindled in 
the pure virgin hearts of our young ladies, as will so 
elevate their thoughts and feelings as to lift them far 
above the contaminating influences of degenerate civili- 


zation. May the young sons of Zion be proof against 
the deleterious habits which vitiate the taste and under- 
mine the structure of physical strength and perfec- 
tion — may they become the unwavering champions of 
truth, freedom and justice, and stand as mighty bul- 
warks against the aggressions of intolerance and 
oppression; and may the young daughters of Zion, 
noble, dignified, loving and graceful — like "polished 
stones,"— become crowns of excellence and beauty, 
prepared hereafter to associate with angels and the 
highest intelligences of the upper world. - 


Written for, and read before an Assembly of the Poly- 
sophical Association, Salt Lake City. 

How sweet is the association of hearts united by the 
endearing ties of reciprocated friendship? How holy, 
and how heavenly the communion of those whose 
minds are enlightened by the spu-it of revelation — 
whose trust is in the promises of the Most High — who 
are guided by his Priesthood upon the earth, and 
whose anticipations reach beyond the vail which hides 
from our view, a glorious immortalitv? 


What is more desirable to noble, intelligent beings, 
and what object can be more worthy of our pursuit, 
than good fiocieljj? 

Wliether the desire was inherited, or whether it was 
the result of high-toned parental instruction, I cannot 
say; but good society has been my undeviating aim, 
and for which I have endeavored to render myself 
worthy, ever since my earliest childhood: And now 
my heart overflows with love and gratitude to my 
heavenly Father, that I am numbered with his chosen 
Israel, and have the inestimable privilege of being 
associated with the Latter-day Saints. 

How happy are those who are permitted to unite to- 
gether, and through the perfect medium of the Spirit of 
God, not only hold sweet communion with one an- 
other, but through union of faith and feeling, have 
power to draw down precious draughts of consolation 
and intelligence, from the fountain above? If such, 
the small foretastes which occasionally refresh the 
rugged pathway of life, aiid which truly seem as cool- 
ing streams to the thirsty traveler, and as clusters of 
grapes to the weary, famishing pilgrim; what will be 
the blessed fruition, when those who abide the ordeal 
of earthly affliction, and become sanctified through the 
truth; will mingle with those exalted beings w^hose 
purity, and brightness of glory, far exceed the powers 
of our weak, mortal vision? 

And will it ever be possible for us, the frailj degener- 
ate children of Adam, to arrive at the reality of these 
high hopes? At the ultimatum of these glorious anti- 


He, whose spirit has awakened in our bosoms, the 
supernal, elevating and soul-enlivening expectation of 
a perfect state of society hereafter; has also furnished 
us with means necessary for tlie attainment. He has 
implanted in our organizations, the germ of mental, 
moral, and physical faculties capable of expansion, 
and possessing the rudiments of eternal progression. 
He has revealed Keys and Ordinances of the everlast- 
ing Priesthood, which will qualify all those who re- 
ceive and respect them, for admission into the upper 
courts of eternity— into the assemblies of the just — for 
a perfection and fulness of those enjoyments of which 
we pai-take in small, yet precious effusions here in our 
social assemblies, where the atmosphere is rife witli 
love, union, and confidence — where all is harmony and 

Admitting the very current remark, that the Saints 
are all in school; and considering the present state of 
existence as a kind of outer porch, where we are taking 
lessons preparatory to an entrance within the vail — 
into the vestry which opens into the celestial Halls of 
eternity; I have thought that a very Important lesson 
of our present education is the correct estimate or a 
true comparative valuation of whatever pertains to 
human life. 

Everything on earth has been perverted; and those 
who gather to Zion from different countries, have each 
a different standard by which to determine the relative 
importance and worth of whatever comes within the 
compass of our supervision. 

In Zion— in the midst of the Saints of God— under 


the direction and in the presence of those who hold the 
keys of knowledge; we might make ourselves appear 
very ridiculous by adhering to the estimates and com- 
putations of the adulterated erudition, practice, and 
etiquette of Babylon. How muchsoever of good we 
may have acquired, it remains for the voice of Inspira- 
tion, through the medium which God has appointed, 
to determine what is and what is not good. , This in- 
struction, I consider one grand item, to obtain which, 
we have been gathered from the midst of the nations: 
And in Zion, we have always before us, more or less 
examples of those who, through an inflexible tenacity 
for former education and gentile notions and customs, 
are left far in the rear of such as in humility take the 
position of students, and in all things are ready and 
willing to be taught. 

An ancient wise man observed, "that which is highly 
esteemed among men, is foolishness with God;" and I 
believe that nearly all of the mental, and not a small 
portion of the physical suffering of the present state, is 
consequent on, or rather the production of a false and 
disordered estimate of things with which we have to 
do and to which we are subject. The Spirit of God is 
the spirit of light — the spirit of intelligence, and when 
we are filled with it, as every faithful Saint has been 
at times, all the ten thousand annoyances and per- 
plexities—all the discomfitures of life disappear, like 
the shades of night before the bright rays of the rising 

When we act consistently with ourselves, we make 
that the object of our most ardent j^ursuit, to which we 


attach the greatest consequence; and if our standards 
of valuation are not in accordance with the prices-cur- 
rent in the upper market, we not only squander the 
ability which God has given to lay up treasures for 
eternity, and make a wasteful sacrifice of the time al- 
lotted for the acquisition of what is recognized as 
genuine by the true Mint; but we court around us 
those delusive spirits of darkness which are ever seek- 
ing to obtain access in order to decoy. And vrhat is 
still worse, in the attainment of that which is entirely 
useless, or far inferior to the worth of time and anxiety 
bestowed, we sacrifice the peace of mind, by which we 
disqualify ourselves to enjoy the desired object, were 
its possession really productive of enjoyment, which 
is not the case, in nine instances out of ten. 

In order to arise in the scale of being, that we may 
mingle in the associations of the high and holy ones 
who dwell in the mansions of light, we are to become 
as little children, and in all things be instructed by the 
Holy Priesthood, which holds in possession the rules 
and scales -of weights and measures, by which all 
things will have their value determined, not only for 
Time and Eternity, but for all the successions of Eter- 
nities. What have the order, fashion, and traditions 
of this world — what have the opinions and practices of 
the gentiles, the enemies of truth, to do with the pre- 
parations we are making for the presence and the re- 
ception of angels and those higher intelligences who, 
we are instructed, will ere long manifest themselves to 
such as are prepared to receive them? Just nothing at 
all. And when we can fully realize it, we shall spare 


ourselves all the mortification of feeling attendant on 
tlie amalgamation of light and darkness — the know- 
ledge of God and the spurious erudition of Babylon: 
And as we Increase in the wisdom of God — become 
acquainted with, and act in accordance to his estimates 
in all tilings; much, and perhaps all that previously 
caused us grief and anxiety, will diminish in conse- 
quence—sink into insignificance, and really prove to 
be nothing more than the rattle which amuses the rest- 
less child. 

Our purpose— our aim is the favor of God— the 
society of the good; and that our aim may be well 
directed, it is necessary for us to study our heavenly 
Father's laws of appreciation, that what we learn, both 
from observation and experience, may have a qualify- 
ing tendency, whereby our present associations may 
be perpetuated; and that in the path of perfection, we 
may walk, steadily upward, communing with the 
si^irits of the Just, until we enter the holy assemblies 
of the sanctified, in the fulness of the presence and 
glory of the Gods of Eternity. 




O Lord our God, Thou art great and glorious. 

Thy decrees are eternal — thy purposes fix'd and un- 
changeable — and the times and seasons are directed by 
thine own Omnipotent wisdom. 

The reins of thy government are truth and equity; 
justice and mercy are the executors of thy will. Justice 
cannot rob mercy, neither can mercy defraud justice: 
therefore they walk hand in hand together in the bright 
sunshine of righteousness. 

Thy Saints rejoice in thy goodness— they gloiy in thy 
might and majesty, and they adore thee for thy con- 
descension and thy love. 

Thou art our boast in the day of prosperity; and in 
the day of trouble, Thou art our shield and our trust. 

When the purple hand of persecution lay heavily 
upon us, where, although liberty of conscience was 
boldly inscribed on the national escutcheon, and the 
banner of freedom broadly waved in proud majesty, 
the blood of Saints and Prophets copiously flowed for no 
other offence than the exercise of this inalienable right; 


And we were driven from our inheritances and from 
our comfortable homes, to wander shelterless in the 
dreary wild; 

Thou didst inspire the heart of thy servant Brig- 
ham— Thou didst impart unto him a portion of thine 
own eternal wisdom; and he went forth with his 
brethren, to seek a resting place for thy people. 

Thou didst direct their footsteps overtrackless wastes 
and rugged ways, to this valley in the midst of the 
"everlasting hills," which, for ages. Thou hast held in 
reserve for this purpose — •'Where the foot of civilization 
did not tread; and where the hand of cultivation had 
not been stretch'd forth during the lapse of centuries. 

This land, although a land of savages— a wild and 
dreary waste, they received as a boon from heaven, 
the gift of thy hand; and with grateful hearts, they 
bowed down, and in the name of thine Only Begotten, 
they dedicated it unto Thee for an asylum of safety and 
a gathering place for the Saints. 

Here they erected a standard, even a standard of 
peace, unto which they invited the scattered exiled 
Saints, and all honest in heart thro'out the world. 

Many, yea many were the trials which Thou didst 
call thy people to pass through, while commencing 
and establishing a home in the wilderness, that it might 
" bud and blossom as the rose," and that "springs of 
water might spring forth in the desert;" 

POEMS. 141 

Yea more than ordinary fortitude, courage and per- 
severance were requisite to surmount those difficulties, 
and to endure the privations attendant on this new and 
extraordinary enterprise, which none but those unto 
whom Thou, the Most High God, had spoken, would 
even have attempted. 

But thy servants were stout hearted, for Thou wert 
with them— they never thought of discouragement, for 
Thou had required this service at their hand, and more- 
over, the word cannot had long since been stricken 
from the vocabularies of Zion, as obsolete. 

Although Thou didst put thy people to to the proof, 
to try their texture, that they might come forth like 
pure gold from the furnace; Thou didst bless their 
labors and crown their efforts with abuudand success; 
and glory be to thy great name. 


O God, how wonderful are thy providences, how 
strange are thy dealings with the children of men! 

Thou overrulest all things, and with Thee is the re- 
sult of every act of the inhabitants of the earth; 

Thou givest power, and man operates. Thou with- 
holdest, and all his plans and purposes are frustrated. 

Although we had fled before our enemies from time 
to time, even until we found refuge in the place Thou 


hadst appointed for us, in the fastnesses of the Rocky- 
Mountains; still have our enemies j)ursued us and even 
here, have plotted many deep plans for our destruction. 

But Thou, the King, the Lord God of hosts, hast pre- 
served us— Thou hast wrought out for us a bountiful 
salvation— Thou hast extended unto us a mighty- 

In thine own wisdom didst Thou devise it, and by 
thine own might didst Tliou bring it to pass. 

Wlien the mouths of our enemies were opened wide 
to devour us — when their armies were encamped about 
us, and were greedj'^ to seize upon us to make us their 
prey— when tliey thought to wipe us out of existence, 
and were just ready to swallow us up; then Thou didst 
put a hook in their jaw— Thou didst hold them as a 
horse by the bit— Thou didst frustrate all their schemes 
and cause tliem to be covered with shame and confu- 

Thy Saints, in whose hearts richly dwells thy Holy 
Spirit, feel to praise and adore thee; and by thy mercies 
and thy judgments will all the nations of the earth be 
taught to acknowledge thy power, and to know that 
the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth. 

Thou hast whispered unto them by the gentle voice 
of thy Spirit — Thou hast spoken unto them by thy ser- 
vants, and now Thou art beginning to call alond unto 
them by the voice of lightnings and thunders — by the 

POEMS. 143 

voice of whirlwinds, tempesfs, wars, pestilence and 

Therefore, let the honest in heart make haste and 
gather to the places appointed, and let the inhabitants 
of Zion purify their hearts and sanctify themselves be- 
fore the Lord, and prepare for the daythat is approach- 

For a great and terrible day is near at hand, even 
a day of vengeance and recompense for the ungodly. 

Let all those tremble who have sought the destruc- 
tion of the Lord's Anointed, and let dismay and fear- 
fulness seize upon those who, having been taught the 
way of life and salvation, have turned away, and blas- 
phemed the name of the Holy One of Israel. 

But let the upright, even all the pure in heart, who 
have maintained their integrity, and who have labored 
for the welfare of Zion and the salvation of their fellow- 
men, lift up their heads and rejoice, for their redemp- 
tion draweth nigh. Praise ye the Lord. 



For the 2Uh of July, 1875. 

This daj^, on history's brightest page, will live. 
With honor's purest diadem, adorned 
With life's chaste gems of beauty and of youth, 
We now embellish it. 

This is the day 
On which the Pioneers of Utah first. 
Not yet three decades since, with thankful hearts, 
Entered tliis vale. 

'Twas dry and desolate — 
But they had come, searching their way across 
The trackless desert plains, to find a home 
For persecuted Saints; and here they found 
A parched and sterile waste — the heritage 
Of crickets, and the Indian's stamping ground; 
Which none but those who fully trusted in 
The living, speaking God of Abraham, 
Would have essayed, or struggled to reclaim. 

And, since the tedious, slowly plodding team 
Is superseded by the "iron horse," 
And time and distances seem swallow 'd up; 

POEMS. 145 

Ratals of the stern realities 
ExpeHenced in our weary pilgrimage 
Across tlie plains, fall on the list'ning ear, 
Like studied fables, or romantic tales. 

God led the Pioneers, and they, the Camps 
Of Israel. 

Herp, a nucleus was formed — 
A bright Oasjs, like a Phcenix, rose 
Upon the barren waste— brought forth by toil 
And skill — by constant patience, faith and prayer; 
And now tlie wilderness is budding as 
The rose; and in the desert, streams break forth. 

And here, God has a purpose to fulfil: 
A purpose greater— more important, and 
Magnanimous by far, than ever was 
Invented by the human brain, is couched 
In these strange movements — in the grand results; 
Not merely those already realized, 
But yet of broader, higher magnitude, 
Embosom'd in the undevelop'd form 
Of unborn times, and will mimortalize 
Th' eventful day we now commemorate. 

We are God's children, and His instruments 
To execute His plans, and what He has 
Foretold through prophets, by Himself inspired. 
Will, to the letter, all be verified. 

An ancient prophet, when the holy fire 
Of inspiration from the Deity 


146 POEMS. 

Quicken'd his senses with a glowing spark 
Of light divine, beheld, far down the long, 
Dark vista of the Dispensations, then 
Unfolded, ours — the present one — the last 
And greatest: 'tis the Dispensation of 
The fulness of all times — comprising those 
Which have preceded; and, in this, he saw 
In the lone "desert, a highway cast up," 
On which the ransom'd of the Lord should come 
From every clime and nation under heaven. 

God will establish in these mountain vales. 
The Kingdom Daniel saw in vision, which 
He likened to a "little stone," that rolled 
Down from the mountain — growing, moving on. 
Until it filled the earth. 

A portion of 
The elements are here before us, in 
This blooming choir — this mammoth Jubilee, 
Where youth and childhood— pure and innocent 
As vestal offerings, and beautiful 
As ideality's bright pencilings, 
Unite their voices in Jehovah's praise. 

O may these germs of immortality 
Mature in wisdom's true intelligence, 
Endow'd with all the gifts the fulness of 
The everlasting Gospel can confer. 

May these young sons of Zion, these bright boys. 
Be stalwart in their growth — be champions of, 

POEMS. 147 

And valiant for eternal truth — improve 
Upon the present type of manhood, and 
Foreshadow a still higher to succeed; 
Become staunch men of God, and proof against 
Th' infectious evils rampant in the world. 

May these fair daughters — these young sprightly 
Preserve their purity — improve in mind — 
In heart — in manners, grace and dignity — 
Scorning to be the idle dolls and pets — 
Mere playthings on the stage of human life, 
But aim at higher, grander purposes — 
To useful, noble womanhood, to be 
The model mothers of a Godlike race. 

Such are the men and women God must have 
To consummate the work of Latter-day — 
To be His instruments, with which to form 
The basis of a government of Peace — 
Of Justice, Truth and Equity — to build 
His Kingdom, over which, the Prince of Life, 
The Prince of Peace, our King, will come to reign. 

148 POEMS. 


The long, long time, dear father, 
Since we have look'd on you; 

Makes all the days seem longer — 
The nights seem longer too. 

While in a distant country, 

Across the mighty sea; 
We hope you're feeling happy 

Wherever you may be. 

Our kind good mother teaches 

Us how to pray for you. 
When we kneel down together, 

At night and morning too. 

She says to distant nations, 
By God's command, you're sent. 

To preach the glorious gospel, 
And we must be content. 

We pray that Jesus' spirit 
May ever fill your heart; 

And give you light and knowledge, 
To others to impart: 


That thro' your heav'nly counsel, 
The humble may be blest — 

The pure in heart directed, 
To Zion in the West. 

We pray that God will give you 
Good health and appetite, 

With wholesome food and clothing, 
And quiet sleep at night. 

When you are waiting dinner, 
In homes across the sea — 

When prattling stranger children 
Are clinging to your knee; 

While gently you caress them. 
Do not your feelings roam. 

With fatherly affection. 
To your dear mountain home, 

Where loving hearts are beating, 
And pure as winter snow — 

Where brightest eyes are beaming 
With love's deep filial glow? 

Yet father — dearest father. 
We do not— dare not pray 

For your return to Zion 
Till God shall name the day. 

150 POEMS. 


Little Annie clung to her mother's side, 

And the tear-drops stood in her eye, 
As she saw the earth wrapp'd in its wintry pride, 

And heard the cold blast move by. 

The mother said, as she kissed her child, 

"My darling has nothing to fear; 
Though the storm without is fierce and wild, 

It never can enter here. 

Our house is beautiful, nice and warm. 

With the fire's bright cheerful blaze: 
Your father provides for you well; like a charm 

You shall spend the wintry days." 

*'Yes,mother, your child knows your words are true,' 

The dear loving Annie replied, 
"I have all that I need, — I have father and you. 

By whom every want is supplied. 

But I'm thinking of poor little Carrie and Ned: 

Their house is so shabby and old, — 
Their mother is sick and their father dead, — 

That I think they are hungry and cold. 

POEMS. 151 

They live in that house by the big tall oak 
Which the frost and the winds have made bare; 

I've watched the chimney and see no smoke 
Rise up on the stormy air. 

No kind father's footsteps are ever heard 

On that threshold where orphans tread- 
No father's lips with a loving word, 
Nor his hand to provide them bread." 

This short speech was made without guile or art; 

It was love's sweet, innocent strain; 
The appeal was made to a mother's heart, 

And it was not made in vain. 

The mother in haste envelop'd her form, 

With sympathy warm in her breast; 
Kiss'd the daughter good-bye, and braved the storm, 

To rescue the poor distress'd. 

Her purse was large and her hands not slack, 

And the old house was fill'd with joy; 
And Annie's lieart, when her mother came back, 

Beat with pleasure without alloy. 

152 POEMS. 


Darling, we are waiting for thee, 

Hasten, now: 
Go with us, where wreaths are twining 

For thy brow. 

In the innocence of childhood. 

Thou wilt be 
Hail'd with gentle shouts of welcome, 

And of glee. 

Joyous cherubs wait thy coming 

Up above; 
Ready now to crown and bless thee, 

Withtheir love. 

Loved one, haste — delay no longer — 

With us go 
From a clime that intermingles 

Joy and woe. 

Go Avith us'to heav'nly arbors, 

Deck'd with flow'rs; 
Where ambrosial fragrance, streaming, 

Fills the bow'rs. 

POEMS. 153 

Thou art pure— by earth's corruptions 

From the ills of life, we'll take thee, 

Sinless child. 

Friends will mourn, but this bereavement 

They'll endure; 
Knowing that their cherished darling 

Is secure. 

Like a rosebud yet unopen'd, 

Thou Shalt bloom; 
Where no blight shall mar thy freshness, 
And perfume. 

Child, we're waiting now to bear thee 

To our home, 
Full of life— of love and beauty. 

Darling, come. 


Tune— "Jii/ Mother Bear.'' 

My own indulgent father; 

Most good and kind to me, 
My heait is full of gratitude, 

As heart of child can be. 


The sweetest tones cannot express 

What my young bosom feels, 
For all the love and tenderness, 
A father's care reveals. 

My father dear — 
My father dear — 
My own kind, loving father. 

My earthly gifts and blessings. 

From father's bounties flow: 

O, how shall I the debt repay? 

What can a child bestow? 
I will not deign an offering 

From mammon's shining mart — 
A richer token, I will bring — 
A tribute from the heart. 

My father dear — 
My father dear — 
My own kind, loving father. 

I think upon his kindness. 
And fond emotions swell 
From pure affection's fountain streams. 

And more than words can tell. 
The purpose of my heart shall be 

My gratitude to prove. 
And with my life's integrity. 
To testify my love. 

My father dear — 
My father dear — 
My own kind, loving father. 

POEMS. 155 


Remember your time honor'd laws, 
Kind master of the merry glee: 

Prepare your gifts, good Santa Claus, 
And hang them on the Christmas tree. 

And where no Christmas trees are found, 
With liberal hand your gifts distill; 

The bags and stockings hanging 'round, 
Great Santa Claus, be sure to fill. 

Untie your purse — enlarge your heai g — 
O, do not pass one single door; 

And in your gen'rous walk impart 
Your comforts to the sick and poor. 

When eyes are watching for the morn, 
In humble hut and cottage too; 

How disappointed and forlorn, 
If missed, dear Santa Claus, by you. 

Go all the rounds of baby-hood, 

And bless and cheer the hearts of all 

The "little folks," and please be good 
To those who're not so very small. 



Before an Assembly of the Polysophical Association^ 
Salt Lake City. 

With much respe?t, Fathers, and Mothers too, 
The Muse, this evening, humbly unto you. 
In Zion's name, would profifer an appeal 
Upon a theme involving Zion's weal. 
As Zion's welfare is our mutual aim. 
And our united interest, I will claim 
Not the indulgence of the list'ning ear, 
Nor flattering plaudits, sycophants would hear; 
But your attention, thoughtful, calm and grave — 
Your sober judgment, I would fondly crave. 

You all are stewards of what you possess. 
And may abuse, or use in righteousness: 
And thus, the children you most dearly love, 
May prove a blessing, or a curse, may prove. 

The infant mind is like an empty cell 
Where good and evil tind a place to dwell; 
And may, by culture, be enlarged and filled. 
And truth and error, one or both, instil'd. 

Let healthy, vigorous limbs inactive lie, 
How soon they wither, and how soon they die! 

POEMS. 157 

And without exercise, the mental powers, 
Weak, unsupplied with proper, useful stores, 
Will not attain to their diplomad worth, 
Nor shed their own inherent lustre forth. 
We cannot powers and faculties create, 
But 'tis our province, both to cultivate; 
And while life's busy scenes are hurrying thro', 
The most important is the first to do. 
You want your sons prepared to carry on 
The work you have commenced, when you are gone — 
In high, important offices to act — 
As Zion's Judges, business to transact. 
In things momentous, for 'all Israel's sake. 
With the salvation of the world at stake. 
Inspire their minds to earnestly pursue 
Improvement, and inspire your daughters too; 
Prompt both to mental labor, while the mind, 
Like pliant boughs, is easily inclined- 
While they with readiness and pleasure take 
Th' impressions which the sculptor's chisels make. 

Your sons, as heralds, soon may go abroad, 
To face the world and teach the truths of God — 
The wise — the erudite of earth to meet — 
Knowledge with knowledge— mind with mind compete- 
All their attainments criticised and tried 
Before tribunals of ungodly pride. 
Where no apologies will be received. 
And no mistakes and errors be retrieved. 

'Tis true, the Lord his spirit does bestow. 
And thro' that medium streams of knowledge flow: 


But when the opportunities are given, 
Thro' the o'erruling providence of heaven, 
For cultivation, no one need expect 
That God with smiles will sanction our neglect. 
Would not your bowels of compassion yearn, 
To think your child iu stranger lands must learn 
By force of cruel circumstances, what 
He might have been, at home, in kindness taught? 

And very soon your blooming daughters will 
Their destined spheres, as wives and mothers, fill. 
The best, the noblest boon they can receive— 
The richest fortune you have power to give — 
The best of patrimonies under heaven, 
Is education, timely, wisely given. 

Not eruditions superficial gloss — 
Its glitt'ring tinsel and its flimsy dross. 
Instead of fabled, sentimental glare, 
Teach them what was, what will be and what are. 
Teach them the principles of life and health, 
And store their minds with intellectual wealth; 
For all they treasure here, of mental worth. 
They'll carry with them wlien they leave the earth. 

The power of method, students gain in school. 
Forms a credential — constitutes a tool, 
An operative instrument, whereby 
Their own resources, they can self-supply. 

Let Zion's children all, be taught in youth, 
Upon the basis of Eternal Truth— 

POEMS. 159 

Self-cultivated too, as well as taught — 

Trained to reflection and inured to thought; 

And here in time, and in Eternity, 

The sons, as pillars in the church, will be: 

The daughters too, as "polished stones" will shine, 

And ornament their true ancestral line, 

And be prepared, in beauty clad, to move 

With grace and dignity, in courts above. 


Sacred to the memory of my Sister, Leonora A. Snow 
Morley, who departed this life February 11th, 1872. 

'Tis sad to part with those we dearly love, 
But parting comes to all. 

No purer tie — 
No holier sympathy warms human breast, 
Than that of loving sisterhood, where heart 
To heart is joined and interwoven with 
A long, well tested and unbroken chain 
Of mutual confidence — a confidence 
Unstirred by envy, jealousy, or breach 

160 POEMS. 

Of sacred trust. Where thought's wide, ample stream 
Flows unabridg'd: Where each can think aloud. 

Such was the love-inspiring confidence, 
Strengthened as years accumulated with 
My sister and myself. Ours was the sweet 
Reciprocation, where each sentiment 
Found safe repository — safe as heaven's 
Eternal Archives. 

But my sister's gone! 
I feared — I felt — I knew she soon must go: 
But as beside her bed I watched, and saw 
The last faint breath that fed the springs of life 
Exhaled, it seemed frail nature's finest cord 
Was torn asunder, and h crushing sense 
Of loneliness, like solitude's deep shade. 
In that unguarded moment, made jne feel 
As though the lights of earth had all gone out, 
And left me desolate. 

I knew 'twas false — 
I knew that many noble, loving ones, 
And true, remained; but none can fill 
The vacant place: it is impossible. 
Th' endearing ties, as Saints of God, we hold, 
The ties of consanguinity— secured 
By sacred cov'nants which the Priesthood binds 
On earth, and they're recorded in the heavens, 
We sh all perpetuatejbeyaiid-tbe grave : 
Eternal union with the cherish'd ones. 
Will crown the glory of immortal lives. 

POEMS. 161 

True love may multiply its objects most 
Extensively, without diminishing 
Its strength; but love accepts no substitute. 

When the fond mother lays her darling down 
In death's cold, silent sleep; though others may 
Be added to her ai ms, the vacancy 
Remains until the resurrection shall 
Give back her child. 

My sister, valiantly 
Life's changeful battle waged — her life was full 
Of years: her years w^ere filled with usefulness: 
Her trust was in the living God, who hears 
And speaks as He was wont to hear and speak; 
She loved the Gospel and exemplified 
It in her life. Her heart knew no deceit — 
Her lips ne'er moved with fulsome flattery — 
Her tongue with guile. 

Other positions of 
Responsibility, as well as those 
Of wife and mother, she has nobly filled. 
Her sun went down in peace. Death had, for her, 
No sting — the grave will have no victory. 
Her noble spirit lives, and dwells above. 

The casket rests— the pure, component pa/t, 
Th' eternal portion of the human form, 
In life combined with impure elements. 
Sleeps in the bosom of our mother Earth, 
Secure from nature's changing processes — 
Despite decomposition's complex skill. 


162 POEMS. 

Until the glorious resurrection morn: 

'TwiU then come forth in triumph o'er the tomb, 

And clothe the spirit in immortal bloom. 

Adieu my sister— we shall meet again 
On earth, and share Messiah's glorious reign. 


Counselor to P'reHident BHghani Young. 

Hear that low, plaintive sound! why so slowly that 
List — list to the tones — 'tis a funeral knell: 
And I catch from the breezes' sad murmuring tread, 
A faint whisper that says. Brother Willard is dead! 

He's not dead: He has laid his mortality by, 
And has gone to appear in the councils on high — 
In the bonds of pure fellowship; there to be 
With the Saviors that dwell in Eternity. 

We miss him — we miss him: but why should we 

He's in patience, life's struggles and weaknesses borne: 
He has fought the good fight, and the victory gained. 
And, through faith, immortality's powers attained. 


He was prudent and wise — he was trne to his trust- 
He has gone to unite with the noble and just; 
Whose afflictions, in time, he was happy to share. 
And he freely partakes of their blessings there. 

As a friend — as a brother, w^e lov'd him well; 
But now he has gone with the Gods to dwell — 
To partake with the martyrs a banquet of love: 
There is joy — <^ere are shouts in the world above. 

Salt Lake City, March, 1854. 


Coun-selQv to Bresident Bngham Young. 

He's gone, 'tis true, but yet, he is not dead: 
Such men as Jedediah do not die. 
Death came as a swift messenger from God, 
And cut the thread that bound the mantle of 
Mortality around him, and he shook 
It off, a senseless, lifeless mass of earth. 
It fill'd its sphere in life — he honor'd it. 
Keeping it pure from aU defilement; and 
He sanctified it as a temple for 
The Holy Ghost: in which it truly dwelt. 

164 POEMS. 

He needs no eulogy to speak his worth — 
His works and faithfulness eclipse all praise, 
His life personified integrity: 
Few such men live — few such have ever liv'd. 

The world, to cover up, and hide its own 
Cold-hearted selfishness, oft will applaud 
The merciful, but who applauds the just? 
He had the moral courage to be just, 
And he was just as well as merciful. 

Some say that Jedediah's gone to rest. 
They mean mortality, not him. To rest? 
No: J. M. Grant could never rest, and leave 
His fellow-lab'rers here to tug and toil — 
Spend and be spent, to move the mighty ship 
Of Zion on. No, no: that never was 
His calling. He will never rest, until 
Zion's redeem 'd — Jerusalem built up — 
Iniquity destroy'd, and satan bound. 
He'll not relax in faith and diligence 
Until his brethren shall with him partake 
The promis'd blessings of a glorious rest. 

He boldly fought the pow'rs of darkness here 
And he'll oppose them there, with all his might; 
Till satan and his hosts are overcome — 
Till truth and righteousness on earth shall reign. 

We know he's gone! We feel it deeply too; 
But wherefore should we mourn? He only liv'd 
For Zion here — he lives for Zion still. 
He lives, and lives where the gross, cumbrous clog 


Of frail mortality cannot impede 
The steady progress of his upward course. 
He's gone with all the gospel armor on: 
And where he'll fight tlie battles of the Lord, 
With even greater pow'r and skUl than he 
Was wont to do while cloth'd with mortal flesh. 
Yes, such was Jedediah: He was true 
To his profession — true to God and man. 

Salt Lake City, Dec. 4, 1856. 


Written for the Occasion, and Sung at the Funeral of 
Heber C. Kimball, Counselor to Presi- 
dent Brigham Young. 

Be cheered, O Zion! — cease to weep: 

Heber we deeply loved: 
He is not dead — he does not sleep — 

He lives with those above. 

His flesh was weary: let it rest 
Entomb'd in mother Earth, 

Till Jesus comes; when pure and blest, 
Immortal 'twill come forth. 


His mighty spirit, pure and free 
From every bond of earth; 

In realms of bright Eternity, 
Is crowned with spotless worth. 

He lives for Zion: he has gone 
To plead her cause above, 

Before the High and Holy One, 
In justice, truth and love. 

Let wives and children humbly kiss 

The deep aflaictive rod; 
A " father to the fatherless," 

God is "the widow's God." 

S, L. City, June 24, 1868. 


Counselor to I^esident Brighara Young. 

A friend of God — a friend of man — a kind 
And loving husband, father, brother. Saint, 
Has gone! 

The deep, sad sense of loneliness. 
Felt in the soft and soothing whisperings 

POEMS. 167 

Of twilight zephyrs as they gently move, 
And seem in mournful requiem to chant 
The solemn fact, speaks volumes to the heart. 

He is not dead; yet, death has done its work; 
It came, "but not in ghastliness — it as 
A kindly porter set the "gates ajar," 
And he stepped forth, leaving the tenement 
A breathless corse, that slumbers in the tomb; 
'Twas worn and weary and it needed rest. 
No faith, nor prayers, nor the heart-yearnings of 
The loving and beloved, could longer bind 
That mighty spirit in an earthy form. 

The wreath which mem'ry twines for him around 
The warm affections of the Saints of God, 
Will still be bright, and fresh with fragrance, when 
The tallest, proudest monumental spires. 
That grace the tombs of earthly royalties. 
Have crumbled 'neath the with 'ring stroke of Time. 

He made his mark in honor's upward path; 
And his example is to those he loves. 
The richest legacy he could bequeath. 

With firm integrity, unflinchingly 
He's " fought the fight of faith." He's nobly fought 
The powers of darkness— stem'd the foaming tide 
Of ignorance, prejudice and bigotry. 
Combined in force against Eternal Truth; 
And now, disrobed of frail mortality's 
Encumbrances, he joins the mighty host 


Of valiant vet'rans of the cross, who 're all 

Co-opei*ating with the Saints on earth; 

And with that band he'll shout triumphant strains. 

Here, he was humble as a little child, 
And yet, as boldest lion, he was bold 
And brave. Unflinchingly he ever dared 
"What is no ordinary daring in 
This fawning, sycophantic age; he dared 
To speak the truth. He verily is one 
Of God's best specimens of genuine 
Nobility, 't.e., an honest man. 
We're proud to know he was and is our friend. 

" Peace to his ashes." His loved memory 
Needs not of mortal praise. His- works abide; 
And he, with all whose lives are fashioned by 
The unadulterated Gospel's mould. 
Will live eternally where God shall reign. 

Salt Lake City, Sept. 11, 1875 




Inscribed to Elder Henry Maihen, 

To live a Saint — a Saint to die 
Perfects the aim of mortal life — 
Secures the key to courts on high, 
With all the powers of being, rife. 

Thus, when a ling'ring, parting look 
Of that dear gemless casket form, 
Which in the coffin lay, I took, 
This thought diffused a soothing charm. 

For she was faithful to the end- 
In life's associations, true — 
An upright, kind, confiding friend — 
A faithful wife, and mother too. 

Peace to her dust: Your Caroline 
Lives where no earthly ills betide: 
In brighter spheres her graces shine: 
She lived a Saint — a Saint she died. 

Salt Lake City, Oct. 17, 1864. 




She is not dead. She has laid aside 

The visible, mortal form : 
Until the dust shall be purified 

And come forth with a brighter charm. 

The casket was beautiful, lovely, and fair, 

While the jewel within it shone — 
The sweet spirit is now where the holy ones are; 

But the earth must return to its own. 

O, she was too pure for a world like this : 

She has gone to a happier sphere: 
To partake mth the perfect above, of bliss, 

Which she never had tasted here. 

She pass'd like a fragrant, blooming flow'r, 
From the coarse, rugged scenes of time; 

To a world where disease can have no pow'r — 
To a pure and celestial clime. 

We behold her not, tho' she is not far; 

And her spirit will often come 
To minister where her dear parents are, 

Till tliey meet in her beautiful home. 



There is an eloquence that breathes throughout 
The world inanimate. There is a tone, 
A silent tone of speech, that meets the heart 
In whisperings pathetic, soft and sweet — 
Like the enchantments of the night, which move 
On slumber's downy chariot wheels, and clothe 
In charming playfulness, the hours of rest. 

The clouds that float in fleecy sheets across 
The pale blue canopy, or rest upon 
The lofty mountain-side, or else condensed, 
Roll up in massy form and feature dark — 
The sun which moves in silent majesty, 
And spreads its beams of light and day abroad — 
The placid moon, and nightly glittering orbs. 
All seem to utter tones of eLoqiience. 

What is the little insect's buzz, and what 
The rustling of a straw, to the sweet notes 
That flow harmonious from the harpsichord? 
And what is silent nature's eloquence. 
To the imperial eloquence of words 
Whose pathos is intelligence? Flowing 
From lips by wisdom's touch inspired, it charms- 

172 POEMS. 

It captivates the soul; it wields a power 

Above the harmony of David's harp, 

Which charmed to peace the evil-haunted Saul. 

Brown melancholy, sober pensiveness, 
And all such moody spirits lose their grasp, 
And fly like mists before the rising sun, 
When language, with instruction richly fraught. 
Or with amusement's mingled colors tinged. 
Moving in earnest strains of eloquence, 
Falls in rich cadence on the feeling heart. 

There is a charm in music: I have felt 
The magic of its wand, and felt my heart 
Melt by the witching of the power of sound: 
But 'tis the sovereign power of speech that breaks 
Inertia's pond'rous chain, and gives us all 
Creation's wide extent to range. What else 
Will lift the sluggish spirit from the throne 
Of idol-self, to magnanimity? 

Far back in olden times, when Moses led 
From Egypt's land the captive chosen tribes, 
The power of eloquence high honors gained. 
Moses was *' slow of speech," but Aaron plied 
This potent modeler of the human mind. 

But what can paint the beauties, or can tell 
The force of eloquence, but eloquence? 
And what's all other eloquence, compared 
With the bold eloquence of Truth, when couch'd 
In plainness, flowing from the lips of men 


Of God, clothed with the Holy Priesthood, and 

Inspired by the Eternal's spirit? Truth 

That in one grasp, the future, present, past, 

Time and eternity, and life and death, 

Mortality and immortality, and the 

Whole destiny of man and earth, combines. 

This, this I call undying eloquence, 

With rights and powers to probe corruption's depths 

Expose iniquity, and point the shaft 

Of death at Error. 

This is Eloquence 
That breatlies forth living fire, and animates 
The soul of thought, and lifts it upward to 
The courts of endless day, to bask itself 
In the pavilion of Omnipotence. 


Address written for, and read in an assembly of the 
Polysophical Association^ m I*resident 
L. Snoiv^s Hall. 

Before this noble audience, once again 
A Lyre of Zion now resumes its strain. 

Thought is a currency: Speech is designed 
To circulate the treasures of the mind. 


When this Association meets, this Hall 

Extends a mutual fellowship to all; 

And constitutes an intellectual mint, 

Where words are coined — ideas take their tint — 

Where Morals, Arts, and Sciences are taught — 

Mind prompting mind, and thought inspiring thought. 

When last assembled, Woman's^worth and sphere 
Were beautifully illustrated here: 
And then the thought suggested to my view, 
That Woman's self might speak of Woman too; 
But not for " Woman's Rights " to plead, or claim: 
For that, in Zion, I should blush to name: 
Unasked, unsought, we freely here obtain 
What Woman elsewhere seeks and^sks in yain. 

I have apologies to ojBter here 
For ladies who demand a wider sphere: 
Having obtained enough of truthful light 
To see life's strange perversions of ^the right. 
They seek with noble, yet with fruitless aim, 
Corruptions and abuses to reclaim: 
With all their efforts to remove the curse • 

Matters are daily growing worse and worse; 
They can as well unlock without a key, 
As change the tide of man's degeneracy. 
Without the Holy Priesthood: 'tis at'most 
Like reck'ning bills in absence of the host. 

No more of this: I'll speak of Woman now 
Where Inspiration's powers, the mind endow — 


Where rules are given to renovate the earth- 
To try all textures and to prove all worth. 

And what is Woman's calling? Where her place? 
Is she destined to honor, or disgrace? 

The time is past for her to reign alone, 
And singly, make a husband's heart her throne: 
No more she stands with sov'reignty confess'd 
Nor yet a plaything, dandled and caressed; 
Neither a dazzling butterfly, nor mote 
On light, ethereal, balmy waves to float. 

Hers is a holy calling, and her lot 
With consequences highly, deeply fraught. 
"Helpmeet" for Man — with him she holds a key 
Of present and eternal destiny. 
She bends from life's illusive greatness, down — 
She "stoops to conquer" — serves, to earn a crown. 

Love, kindness, rectitude with Avisdom fraught, 
Give Woman greatness, wheresoe'er her lot: 
However great, let once her aim be power — 
Her greatness lessens from that very hour. 
Aspiring brains fictitious heights create. 
And seek to clothe in greatness ere they're great. 
All dignity is but an idle sport 
If goodness forms no pillar for support. 

Who through submission, faith and constancy. 
Like ancient Sarah, gains celebrity, 
And thus obtains an honorable place, 
A high position may sustain and grace. 


That there are rights and privileges too, 
To Woman's sphere, and to her duties, due, 
Reason and justice, truth and heaven confirm; 
But they're not held by force, nor took by storm. 

If "Rights" are right when they are rightly gained, 
"Rights" must be wrong when wrongfully obtained: 
The putting forth a hand to take the prize, 
Before we fairly win it is unwise. 

Let Woman then a course in life pursue 
To win respect as merits honest due. 
And, feeling God's approval, act her part. 
With noble independence in her heart; 
Nor change, nor swerve, nor shrink, whatever is, 
Tho' fools may scofif— impertinence may quiz: 
Faithful tho' oft in faithfulness unknown— 
With no whereon to lean, but God alone. 
Then, by the laws that rule the courts above, 
She holds the Charter to eternal love; 
Which, built on confidence, and nobly won. 
In time to come, Avill gen'rously atone 
For all she feels at times, neglected now — 
Misjudged and unappreciated too. 
With chaff and tares, wheat may be buried low- 
Gold hid in dross, where none but angels know. 

Wit, youth and beauty, may a charm impart, 
Which twines a magic spell around the heart— 
A transient infl'ence— ever prone to wane 
Where sterling worth, the charm does not sustain. 

The jewel, confidence, is far above 
The fickle streams of earth's degen'rate love. 


Nature inviolate holds certain laws — 
There's no effect produced %vithout a cause: 
Integrity and faithfulness, through hard 
And patient labor, reap their own reward, 
The gains of craft will take their own light wings. 
And all assumptions are hut short-lived things. 

As we move forward to a perfect state 
And leave the dross, degeneracies create, 
Laws of affinity will closely bind 
Heart unto heart — congenial mind to mind. 

Life, order — all things are in embryo, 
And thro' experience, God is teaching how 
To mould — to fashion to the pattern given, 
And form on earth a duplicate of heaven. 

A calm must be preceded by a storm, 
And revolutions go before reform: 
Faith, practice, heads and hearts must all be tried. 
To test what can and what cannot abide. 

When shakings, tossings, changings, all are through- 
All things their level find — their classes too; 
A perfect Government will be restored, 
And Truth and Holiness and God ador'd. 

But ere thLs renovating work is through. 
Woman, as well as Man, has much to do: 
ResponsibOities, however great. 
Advancing onward, will increase in weight; 
And she, that she receiving, may dispense. 
Needs wisdom, knowledge and intelligence; 


Of high refinements too, she should partake, 
With rich endowments, for her offspring's sake. 

Queen of her household— authorized to bless — 
To plant the principles of righteousness — 
To paint the guide-board that thro' life will tell, 
And lead instinctively to heaven or hell — 
To fix the base, the fundamental part 
Of future greatness in the head and heart, 
Which constitutes the germ of what will be 
In upper courts of Immortality. 

What we experience here, is but a school 
Wherein the ruled will be prepared to rule. 
The secret and the key, the sjjring, the soul 
Of rule — of government, is self control. 

Clothed with the beauties purity reflects, 
Th' acknowledg'd glory of the other sex, 
From life's crude dross and rubbish, will come forth, 
By weight of character — by strength of worth; 
And thro' obedience, Woman will obtain 
The power of reigning^ and the right to reign. 



The times are cliang'd from what they were, 
When all the fairest of the fair, 
Whom Fame immortaliz'd as "6e«it#?e.s," 
Were skillful in domestic duties. 

Some modern Misses scarce believe 
That Ladies us'd to spin and weave; 
Or that gay princesses of yore, 
Wrought the rich garments, princes wore. 

When Fashion with proud Folly met, 
The stars of Industry, all set; 
Pleasure and Profit then disbanded, 
And Labor, like grim Want, was branded. 

'Twas strange as foolish — but it got so. 
Who were not idle, would be thought so; 
And would he ladies grew so common. 
They rose en masse, to plunder mammon. 

The lamp which lights the latter-day, 
Will clear the mists and fogs away; 
And for our future practice, leave 
The web of wisdom, heav'n shall weave. 


The Saints must break false habit's chain, 
And things to right, restore again — 
Turn Fashion's tide to noble uses, 
And thus redeem its long abuses. 

To stamp respectability 
On what begets utility; 
Will hasten earth's regeneration, 
And us an independent nation. 

We need not take the world by storm: 
We hold the keya to all reform: 
Then let us not in folly spurn them, 
But rise, as Saints of God, and turn them. 

Now who, in spite of Fashion's peal 
Will dare draw music from the wheel. 
Or regulate the kitchen, when 
Cornelia stops, to wield the pen? 



Written for the Dedication of the Temple in St. George, 
April 6, 1877. 

Hark, hark! angelic minstrels sing 

A sweet, melodious strain; 
Heav'n's high, celestial arches ring 

With joyful news again. 
Lo! now another key is turned: 

'Tis God's divine behest; 
And those for whom our hearts have yearn'd, 

Our dead, again are hlest. 

From the valleys of Ephraim hosannas arise, 
And new hallelujahs descend from the skies; 
Glad shouts of redemption from bondage resound, 
From the shades where the spirits in prison are bound. 

In eighteen hundred seventy-seven, 

Let holy records tell, 
A Temple's finished— bolts are riven 

In twain where spii'its dwell. 
We've been baptiz'd for them, and now. 

As agents, in their stead, 

182 POEMS. 

We're wash'd and we're anointed too — 
The living for the dead. 

Chorus— From the valleys, etc. 

Within a Temple's sacred court, 

Beneath its royal tower, 
Let }mmble, faithful Saints resort 

To wield salvation's power. 
Salvation's work! O, glorious theme! 

Too high for mortal tongues; 
Seraphic hosts its grace proclaim 

In everlasting songs. 

Chorus— From the valleys, etc. 

A great, momentous time's at hand; 

Portending signs appear; 
The wise will see and understand 

The day of God is near. 
Ye heav'nly gates, no more ajar — 

Henceforth stand open wide; 
The Bridegroom's voice is heard afar. 

Prepare, prepare the Bride. 

Chorus— From the valleys, etc. 



I love retirement. To my spirit 'tis 

Like honey-comb, stor'd full with gathered sweet 

Nicely extracted from the summer flow'rs. 

'Tis a palladium, within its courts. 
That jewel of refined society, 
The female character, well fashioned in 
The mould of virtue, is most beautiful. 

There may reflection take an easy chair. 
And bathe the nettled brow of public life. 

I never lov'd those scenes of gayety, 
Where happiness is but a hollow sound 
Of shining vanity and splendid mirth — 
Where friendship is diluted in a stream 
Of empty compliments, until its form 
And nature disappear — where common sense 
Becomes a tributary sacrifice 
Upon the shrine of fashion, leaving thought 
In highly rarified and gaseous form. 

Give me the happy medium between 
The world's gay scenes, and dark, brown solitude: 
Beneath the weight of which, the mind would lose 
Its native elasticity, and would 


Become absorb VI, and thus identify 

With the dense mass of matter, lying round. 

Pure social life, the holiest gem which heav'n 
Confer'd upon this desert world — the bright 
Oasis of our earthly pilgrimage— 
The pearl that decorates the courts above; 
Finds in retirement's treat, it's richest zest. 


'Twas in the house of mourning. Friends had met 
To weep with those that wept, and pay the last 
Sad tribute of affectionate respect 
To lovely sleeping innocence — faded, 
Yet beautiful: For Death, in eagerness 
To show his own dexterity, without 
Co-operation in their mutual art 
Of fell destruction, imperceptibly, 
Had stolen the march of his old colleague, Time. 

Death is not mov'd, e'en by the eloquence 
Of tears, else had Orlando's sleep been short; 
For many tears were shed: And when I thought 
Of his small portion of the day of life. 

POEMS. 185 

And bow his sparkling eyes were closed upon 
Those blissful scenes, most fascinatingly- 
Exposed to view, in the prospective page 
Of life's forthcoming drama— torn away 
From friendship's carol — love's caressing smile, 
And hope's bright, fascinating, beautiful 
Portray, and every sunny thing of earth 
That makes us cling to life; I felt my own 
Eye moisten with a voluntarj- tear. 

There is reproof in silence: This I felt: 
For then my reckless gaze perchanced to rest 
On the fixed countenance of the pale corse. 
It met my glances most rebukingly. 
And seemed to say, Can kind hearts sadden when 
A royal jewel leaves the casket of 
Frail, perishable clay, and stainless goes 
To heav'n, and in the holy presence of 
Its God, is decorously laid upon 
An angel's bosom? 

Should affection's eye 
Weep o'er the spirit's eau'ly exit from 
This fallen sphere — this world of hopes and fears, 
When, freed from dull mortality, it flies 
Back to its native clime, and moves again 
In scenes of high intelligence, unmarred 
By any of the ills of mortal life? 

I fQlt my heart reproved, and hush'd my grief, 
And yet not all: I sorrow'd for the friends 
Who mourned their darling boy. For them I shed 
The tear of undissembled sympatliy. 

186 POEMS. 


I hear— I see its tread as Winter comes— 
Clad in white robes, how terribly august! 
Its voice spreads terror — ev'ry step is mark'd 
With devastation! Nature in afifright, 
Languid and lifeless, sinks before the blast. 

Should nature mourn? No: gentle Spring, ere long, 
WiU reascend the desolated throne : 
Her animating voice will rouse from death, 
Emerging from its chains, more beauteous far. 
The world of variegated Nature. 

Not so with man — Rais'd from the lowly dust. 
He blooms awhile; but when he fades, he sets 
To rise no more— on earth no more to bloom! 
Swift is his course and sudden his decline! 
Behold, to-day, his pulse beat high with hope — 
His arms extended for the eager grasp 
Of pleasure's phantom, fancy's golden ken 
Paints in a gilded image on his heart. 
Behold, to-morrow where? Ah! who can tell? 
Ye slumb'ring tenants, will not you reply? 
No: from his bow, death has a quiver sent, 
And seal'dyour senses in a torpid sleep. 


Then who can tell? The living know him not: 
Altho' perhaps, a friend or two, may drop 
A tear, and say he's gone — she is no more! 

Hark! from on high a glorious sound is heard, 
Rife with rich music in eternal strains. 
The op'ning heavens, by revelation's voice 
Proclaim the key of knowledge unto man. 

A Savior comes — He breaks the icy chain; 
And man, resuscitated from the grave. 
Awakes to life and immortality, 
To be himself— more perfectly himself, 
Than e'er he bloom'd in the primeval state 
Of his existence in this wintry world. 


'Tis not the tribute of a sigh 

From sorrow's bleeding bosom drawn; 
Nor tears that flow from pity's eye, 

To weep for me when I am gone; 

No costly balm, no rich perfume, 
No vain sepulchral rite I claim; 

188 POEMS. 

Ko mournful knell, no marble tomb, 
Nor sculptur'd stone to tell my name. 

It is a holier tithe I crave 

Than time-proof, monumental piers. 
Than roses planted on my grave, 

Or willows drip'd in dewy tears. 

The garlands of hypocrisy 

May be equip'd with many a gem; 
I prize the heart's sincerity 

Before a princely diadem. 

In friendship's memory let me live, 
I know no earthly wish beside; 

I ask no more; yet, oh, forgive 
This impulse of instinctive pride. 

The silent pulse of memory. 
That beats to the unutter'd tone 

Of tenderness, is more to me 
Than the insignia of a stone: 

For friendship holds a secret cord. 
That with the fibres of my heart. 

Entwines so deep, so close, 'tis hard 
For death's dissecting hand to part. 

I feel the low responses roll. 

Like distant echoes of the night, 
And whisper, softly through my soul, 
' ^ *'^I would not be forgotten quite." 



TuxE— " Bingen on the Rhine. ^^ 

How came this mighty nation? 

From whence the germ of pow'r? 
It first appeared on "Plymouth Rock" 

It came from Europe's shore: 
Emerging from its weakness, 

And from th' oppressor's hand, 
It pluck'd the brightest laurel wreath, 

And claim'd the happiest land. 
It grew in might and majesty — 

In greatness, wealth, and skill; 
And held its future destiny 

Subser\aent to its will: 
Kingdoms and empires, one by one, 

Come bending to its shrine, 
While gems of art and genius 

In blending beauty shine. 
Beauty, beauty, 

In blending beauty shine. 

A change came o'er the nation 
That once was brave and free. 

190 POEMS. 

That boasted of its patriotism — 

Its peace and. liberty: 
Whose broad sails kissed the ocean breeze — 

Whose steamers plow'd the deep — 
Whose glory lighted distant seas— 

Whose prowess scal'd the steep — 
Whose sons, in war, were valiant — 

In peace, like pillars stood 
To guard the post of human right — 

To bless and shield the good. 
Its banner, every country hail'd. 

And called th' oppress'd to come: 
And where protection triumphed, 

Enjoy a peaceful home. 

Peaceful, peaceful. 

Enjoy a peaceful home. 

Alas! alas! our nation 

Has fallen — O how changed! 
From justice, truth and liberty 

How fearfully estranged! 
Its honor has departed. 

Its beauty is despoiled, 
Its soaring Eagle chas'd away. 

Its banner is defiled! 
The light of freedom has gone down, 

The son of peace has fled; 
And war's fell demon marches on, 

With fierce and haughty tread! 
The holy ties of brotherhood. 

Lie desecrated now — 


'Round freedom's blood-bathed altar, 
Vile sous of mammon bow. 

Mammon, mammou. 
Vile sons of mammon bow. 

The peace that fled our nation 

Has won a coronet, 
In its only earthly refuge 

In the land of Deseret, 
Amid the Rocky Mountains 

A Phcenix has appear'd, 
An ensign has been lifted up, 

A standard has been rear'd, 
By men, who, with the help of God, 

A cruel bondage broke. 
And saved a loyal people from 

A base, fraternal yoke. 
The crown of freedom now is placed 

Where freedom's crown should be: 
And the noblest hearts are shouting 

God, Truth and Liberty. 

Shouting, Shouting, 

God, Truth and Liberty. 

Salt Lake City, October, 1862. 



Dear Lady— My Sister: I fain would express 
A wish for your welfare-a wish that will bless. 
'Twere not well if your life were a pathway of ease, 
In which all that transpires is conspiring to please — 
A life where no clouds and no shadows shall come. 
Where all is bright sunshine, sweet fragrance and 

A life without object, care, use or design— 
A life with no furnace, the gold to refine. 
Be assured, my dear lady, far better your life 
Be with sorrow and trying perplexities rife; 
That the gifts you're endow 'd with thro' experience 

And your power of endurance by tests you fnay show. 
It is needful to taste of the good and the ill, 
To prepare high positions with honor to fill. 
In proportion to labors, rewards will be given. 
May you earn in earth's workshop a fulness in heaven. 

May you don all the armor the Gospel requires. 
And invest all the energies wisdom inspires. 
In the course you're pursuing, be certain you're right, 
Then, whate'er may oppose, neither shun nor invite. 

Unstinted by sloth and unclogg'd by abuse, 

May your faculties strengthen by practical use. 

May your usefulness grow, and your labors, though 

Increase year by year in responsible weight. 
To humanity's interests ever awake, 
Be firm in Truth's conflict for righteousness' sake. 

There is much to replenish, and much to subdue, 
Which requires deep reflection and vigilance, too. 
The relief of the poor claims the heart and the hand; 
While retrenchment reforms, great exertions demand. 

Arouse every effort those ills to remove. 
Which sap the foundation of union and love; 
Which thro' worldly ambition and selfishness grow, 
And pander to vain ostentation and show. 
Set your face as a flint, else ambition and pride 
Will your precept and practice ignobly divide. 

May the rich consolations the Gospel bestows, 
Under every bereavement, your sorrows compose. 
May your name in all future, in honor be known 
For your noble example— for the good you have done, 
That your peace, as a river, may constantly flow. 
Is the wish of your sister and friend, 

Salt Lake City, March 17, 1871. 

194 POEMS. 


Dear Lady: 

Pleasure sat gently smiling when 
I read th' effusion of your pen. 

Thought wakens thought: a thought express 'd 
Called your thoughts forth, with which I'm bleat. 

One gem of mind, I value more 
Than glittering piles from mammon's store. 

We find a radium in the soul, 
Illumined by th' eternal pole, 
And thro' the heart's deep sympathy, 
We taste of immortality. 

The blessed prescience God has given 
Of immortality and heaven, 
Sweetens and creams life's flowing cup. 
And swallows all the bitter up. 

All pain and grief to pleasure tend— 
Each human suff'ring has an end: 
Each yoke will burst— each bondage break- 
Each wounded heart will cease to ache: 
All clouds will scatter— storms will cease- 
All warfare terminate in peace — 
All swellings of the waves, be o'er— 
There is no sea without a shore. 


That restless thing, anxiety, 
The finely masked disloyalty, 
Is but the lack of confidence 
In God, our strength and our defence. 

Compared with past Ufe— life before. 
What is this present? 'Tis no more 
Than a mere point — a little dot, 
(God grant it may not prove a blot.) 
A life of toil, of care and pain, 
Where weakness, pride and ign'rance reign. 
But 'tis as God ordained to be. 
And He well knows what's good for me; 
And all I have to fear, or do, 
Is to obediently pursue 
His Priesthood leadings, and obey 
His providences day by day: 
And thus, whatever Father gives. 
His daughter thankfully receives. 
And when I'm all in all resigned— 
In very heart as well as mind, 
I'm filled with light — I've eyes to see 
His kind parental love for me: 
To His requirements, constant yes, 
Produces constant happiness; 
And this, the germ of perfect peace, 
If cherished, daily will increase. 

To me, it matters little now. 
To where I rise — to what I bow; 
Or toil or ease, I little care 
If Father's smiles I freely share; 


And when th' interior all is right, 
I have no outward foes to fight. 
I war for Zion— not for me: 
I've signed a gen'ral amnesty 
To all injustice, strife and hate, 
Which, to my single self, relate: 
Th' intenti'al evil-doer will, 
vSooner or later, foot the bill. 
Then need we trouble? Surely, no; 
Nor stoop to fight an outward foe. 

I glimpse at data far behind 
What now is tangible to mind. 
Ah! there's a something comes to me, 
Like figures wrought in filligree: 
A something old — both old and new, 
And yet, inviolably true. 
Thought bursts the bound of this low earth- 
On past-life's ocean launches forth, 
And traces our existence, ere 
The Gods had formed this nether sphere. 

But now I'm but a child of dust; 
Thanks, thanks to Him, in whom I trust, 
I'm not without his wise direction, 
His smiles, his guidance and protection, 

Adam, our father— Eve, our mother, 
And Jesus Christ, our elder brother, 
Are to my understanding shown : 
My heart responds, they are my own. 


Perfection lifts them far from me, 

But what they are, we yet may he, 

If we, tho' slowly, follow on. 

We'll reach the point to which they've gone. 

Then, Sister, what — O, what this life — 
Our Edens and our Goshens, rife 
With all the fatness, and the most 
Of excellence that mortals boast, 
Contrasted with eternal blessings, 
When Earth renew'd, and worth possessing, 
Is in celestial beauty drest. 
And crowned with everlasting rest? 
There heart with heart and mind with mind. 
In bonds eternal are entwin'd. 

I know how bitter portions taste, 
They're med'cines given, but not to waste. 
Sweet sweeter seems when bitter's past; 
Thus health will be secured at last. 

Fear not, my Sister: God is just, 
He'll succor those who firmly trust 
His justice and His mercy too, 
His grace sufficient is, for you. 

How blest to be on Zion's ship! 

All safe at helm, she'll make the trip 

With all aboard — a mighty host, 

She'D. clear the swells and reach the coast. 

Unwisely and untimely sought, 
With evil, blessings may be fraught; 


But in God's chosen time to give, 
All things, are blessings, we receive. 
Training the mind to circumstances 
Our pow'r of happiness enhances. 

'Tis not when seas and waves are still, 
That mariners improve their skill, 
"We suffer to progress:" 'Tis so, 
'Neath mighty pressures, spirits grow. 

But O, that glorious day of rest. 
With sweet associations blest! 
With gratitude my feelings swell 
That I'm of favored Israel. 
My heart is full — too full to write- 
Dear Madam, Sister, Friend, good night. 



[In July, 1874, Mrs. Harriet Gray, of Peterboro', N. 
H., 82 years of age, paid a visit to Salt Lake City, Utah. 
On the morning of her departure from "Zion," a mes- 
senger handed her the following lines from the pen of 
the "Mormon Poetess," which we publish at the re- 
quest of many friends. — Ed. of the Peterboro' (N. H. 

Fare you well, beloved mother;— 
While your homeward way you wend, 

God, our Father, will protect you 
Safe from dangers that impend. 

Fare you well, much honored lady, 
Go in peace and be you blest; 

In the far off East remember 
Those who loved you in the West. 

In the valleys of the mountains. 
Hearts to God and country true, 

Will, in holiest bonds of friendship 
Known on earth, remember you. 

When you've filled your eaithly mission, 
And resign your "dust to dust," 

You will have "abundant entrance 
Into mansions of the just." 

Salt Lake City, Aug. 1, 1874. 



Most honor'd Sir: I'd fain address my pen 
To you, a lover of your fellow men, 
I'll dare presume — I crave your pardon, sir, 
If, thus presuming, I presume to err. 

You plead the rights of man; you fain would see 

All men enjoy the sweets of Liberty. 

Goodness is greatness, knowledge — power; and thou 

The best and A\dsest of your nation now: 

And while the nation sinks beneath its blight, 

You, like a constellation, cheer the night. 

If you can quell the raging ocean's wave. 
You may, perhaps, your fallen country save; 
If you can cleanse corruption's growing stream, 
Hope on— your nation's honor to redeem — 
Give back our martyr'd Prophet's life again, 
And from th' escutcheon wipe that dreadful stain. 

Your civil pow'rs, your officers of State, 
On Freedom's shoulders throw a crushing weight; 
With suicidal acts, they've trampled down 
Our Charter'd Rights, and God Almighty's frown 

POEMS. 201 

Is resting on them; and the bitter cup 
They've dealt, they'll drink, they'll use each other up. 
Though for a while, you may avert the blow, 
The deed is done which seals their overthrow; 
The pois'nous canker-worm is gnawing where 
No skill — no med'cine can the breach, repair. 

What have they done? O blush, humanity! 
What are they doing? All the world can see. 

Where is the Banner which your nation boasts? 
Say, is it waving o'er her warring hosts? 
Where are the Statesmen who have never swerv'd? 
And where the Constitution's Rights preserved? 

Here, in the mountains, 'neath the western sky, 
Columbia's Banner proudly waves on high; 
And here are men with souls — men just and true — 
Men worthy of our noble sires and you: 
They have preserv'd our sacred Constitution 
'Midst fearful odds and cruel persecution. 

Your noble, gen'rous heart, wdth pure intent, 
Would screen the guilty from just punishment. 
But God is at the helm — the Almighty rules, 
He, in whose hand the nations are but tools. 
His kingdom Daniel said would be "set up;" 
'Tis here; 'twill swallow other kingdoms up. 
The seeds of wickedness, the nations grow 
Within themselves, will work their overthrow; 
Though, for a season, mercy stays its hand. 
Justice will have its own — its full demand. 


We've sued lor peace, and for our Rights, in vain; 
Again, we've sought for justice; and again, 
We've claim'd protection 'neath that lofty spire 
Your country boasts — 'twas planted by our sires. 

But now we ask no odds at human hand — 
In God Almighty's strength, alone, we stand. 
Honor and Justice, Truth and Liberty 
Are ours: we're freemen, and henceforth we're free. 


To the LaxUes of the United States Camp in a Crusade 
against the '■'•Mormons.^^ 

Why are you in these mountains, 
Expos'd to frosts and snows, 

Far from your shelf ring houses— 
From comfort and repose? 

Has cruel persecution, 

With unrelenting hand, 
Thrust you from home and kindred 

And from your native land? 

Have you been mob'd and plunder'd 
Till you are penniless, 

POEMS. 203 

And then in destitution 
Driven to the wilderness? 

No, no; you've join'd a crusade 
Against the peace of those 

Driv'n to these distant valleys 
By cruel murd'rous foes. 

Amid the dreary desert, 

Where hideous redmen roam — 
Where beasts of prey were howling, 

We've made ourselves a home. 

We never had intruded 
As you would now intrude; 

We've never sought to injure — 
We've sought for others' good. 

We came through sore compulsion, 
And not from wicked choice; 

We had, in all our sorrow, 
Heaven's sweet consoling voice. 

Can woman's heart be callous 
And made of flint or steel? 

Perhaps you'll learn to pity, 
When you are made to feel. 

Should sickness prey upon you 
And children cry for bread. 

With bitter seK reproaches 
You'll rue the path you tread. 


We're form'd of blood and sinews 
And flesh, as well as you; 

And we have hearts composed of 
As many fibres too. 

We love with purer feelings 
Our husbands, children, friends; 

We've learn' d to prize the blessings 
Which God in mercy sends. 

We have the ancient order 
To us by prophets given, 

And here we have the pattern 
As it exists in heav'n. 

We're well prepar'd to teach you. 
And that you may discern, 

We simply here remind you. 
You've just commenced to learn. 

We'd fain from human suff'ring 
Each barbed arrow draw; 

But yet self-preservation 
Is God's and nature's law. 

The Scriptures are fulfilling — 
The spoiler's being spoiled; 

All Satan's foul devices 
'Gainst Zion will be foil'd. 

G. S. L. City, Oct. 13, 1857. 

POEMS. 205 


We're on the Minnesota, 
A ship of " Guion Line," 

Which boasts her Captain Morgan, 
The gen'rous, staunch and kind. 

Amid the heaving waters 
That form the liquid plain; 

With four and twenty draft feet 
The steamer ploughs the main. 

I'm gazing on the ocean 

As on the deck I stand, 
And feel the cooling breezes 

With which the sails are fanned. 

By sunlight, star and moonlight, 
And tranquil evening shade. 

The ever- varying features 
Of ocean I've surveyed. 

At times -^ith restless motion, 
As if her spirit grieves — 

As tho' her breast were paining. 
Her mighty bosom heaves. 

206 POEMS. 

And then, vast undulations, 
Like the rolling prau-ies spread; 

With wave on wave dissolving. 
With tumbling, dashing tread. 

Upon the deep, dark billows. 
Broad, foaming white caps rise. 

And sprays in dazzling beauty. 
Shoot upward to the skies. 

'Tls now a plain, smooth surface, 

As tho' in cozy sleep 
Were wrapped each wave and billow 

Upon the briny deep. 

But hark! The Captain orders 

The furling ev'ry sail; 
Storm-clouds and head- winds rising 

Portend a coming gale. 

Anon all Neptune's furies 
Are on the steamer's path; 

We mount the deck to witness 
The ocean in its wrath. 

The scene! What pen can write it? 

What pencil's art could show 
The wild, terrific grandeur 

Which reigns around us now? 

The waving, surging waters, 

Like battle-armor clash; 
Tumultuous waves upheaving 

With foaming fury dash. 


The steamer mounts the billows, 
Then dips the space below; 

And bravely presses onward, 
Tho' reeling to and fro. 

We're sailing on the ocean 
With wind and sail and steam; 

Where views of "terra firma" 
Are like the poet's dream. 

The God who made the waters — 
Who made the solid land, 

Is ours — our Great Protector, 
Our life is in His hands. 

Subservient to His counsel- 
Confiding in His care — 

Directed by His wisdom. 
There's safety everywhere. 


Far, far away from our dear native land. 
In England's great metropolis we stand; 
Where art and skill — labor and wealtli combine 
With time's co-operation in design 


Of superstructure's bold and beauteous form, 
With all varieties of strength and charm. 

Here massive columns — stately towers, arise, 
And lift their spires in greetings to the skies: 
Fine parks and gardens, palaces and halls, 
With sculptured niches — frescoe-painted walls; 
Where no expense is spared to beautify, 
Nor time, nor toil, to captivate the eye. 
We saw, and viewing, courteously admired 
The master strokes by Genius' hand inspired. 

To "New Westminster Palace " we resort. 
Where the Chief Justice holds his august court; 
'Twas then in session, and the Exchequer too — 
In wig and gown— a grand, imposing view! 
The House of Lords and Commons too, we saw, 
But not those grave expounders of the law. 

With deferential thought we fixed our gaze, 
There, in the " Prince's Hall," where face to face 
On either side, on carved projections stood, 
With features varied as in life's warm blood. 
White marble statues, from the sculptor's hand. 
Of British Statesmen, men who could command 
The power of eloquence — the force of mind, 
A mighty nation's destinies to bind — 
Chatham, Pitt, Granville, Walpole, Fox, beside 
Other's who're justly England's boast and pride. 

We visited the "Abbey," where repose in state 
The effigies of many good and great, 


With some whose deeds are well deserving hate. 
Group'd in the " Poets' Corner," here, we found, 
With rich, artistic sculpture trophies crown'd. 
The meni'ries of the Muse's world-renowned. 
In some compartments where old massive stones 
Comprise the flooring, lie their mouldering bones, 
And we with reverential footsteps tread 
Above the ashes of the illustrious dead. 

Great London City, mart of wealth and power, 

Home for the wealthy — charnel for the poor! 

And here, amid its boasted pomp and pride, 

Some faithf ill Soldiers of the Cross reside — 

A few choice spirits, whom the watchman's care, 

By humble search, found scatter' d here and there, 

*' Like angels' visits, few and far between," 

As patient gardeners sep'rate clusters glean. 

They barter earth 's allurements and device 

To gain the " Pearl " of great and matchless price, 

And what to them the honors, pride and show. 

That perish with their using, here below? 

Their hopes are high — their noble aims extend 

Where life and peace and progress never end; 

Where God's own Kingdom Time's last knell survives. 

Crowned with the gifts and powers of endless lives. 


210 POEMS. 


Thou City with a cherished name, 

A name in garlands drest, 
Adorned with ancient sacred fame, 

As city of the blest. 
Thy rulers once were mighty men, 

Thy sons, renowned in war: 
Thy smiles were sought and courted then 

By people from afar, 

A holy Temple, built as God 

Directed it should be. 
In which His glory shone abroad, 

With heavenly majesty; 
Was great adornment to thy place. 

And lustre to thy name; 
With much of grandeur, wealth and grace, 

To niagnify thy fame. 

The Lord was with thee then, and deigned. 

In speech well understood, 
Thro' prophets, by His wisdom trained. 

To counsel for thy good. 
Attracted by illustrious fame, 

As by a ruling star. 
To study wisdom, people'came 

From other climes afar. 

POEMS. 211 

Thine then, a chosen, favored land, 

Was crown'd with plenty's smile; 
The mountains dropped down fatness, and 

The hillsides wine and oil. 
And thou wert like a golden gem 

Upon a nation's brow, 
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, 

Alas! What art thou now? 

Degraded, and on every hand, 

From wisdom all estranged; 
Thy glory has departed, and 

All, but thy name, is changed! 
From God withdrawn — by him forsook — 

To all intents depraved; 
Beneath the Turkish iron yoke. 

Thou long hast been enslaved. 

Divested of all heavenly rites, 

Thy crest has fallen low; 
Around thy walls are squalid sights 

Of beggary and woe; 
Thy streets are narrow, filthy lanes — 

Offensive to the breath; 
Thy pools appear like sewer drains. 

That breed disease and death. 

No Temple now, that God designed — 
No church by him approved — 

No prophet to reveal His mind, 
By inspiration moved; 

212 POEMS. 

Where once, a royal banner spread, 
The " Crescent," waving now: 

A sable wreath is on thy head, 
And blood upon thy brow. 

The curse of God those changes wrought, 

Through crimes the Jews have done. 
When they his counsels set at naught 

And crucified His Son. 
Since then, has retribution's hand 

Put forth its fearful skill. 
Upon thy structures and thy land, 

A destiny to fill. 

Thy children— seed of Israel, 

Of God's "peculiar care," 
On whom the weight of judgment fell — 

Are scattered everywhere. 

Thy sun has not forever set — 

God has a great design. 
And will fulfil His purpose yet, 

Concerning Palestine. 

Th' appointed hour will surely come, 

According to His will. 
For God, with "Faithful Abraham," 

His cov'nants to fulfil. 
Thyself redeemed fromi deep disgrace 

Of filth and negligence, 
These uncouth structures shall give place 

To taste and elegance. 


Thy walls shall be of precious stones- 

Thy gates, of richest pearl; 
And on thy tow'ring battlements 

Shall Sacred Banners furl; 
The seed of Jacob then shall dwell 

In bold security: 
" More than thy former glory, shall 

Thy latter glory be." 

Palestine, March 6, 1873. 



Should lofty Genius strike a feeble string? 
No: In thy presence y Truths of Truth Fll sing. 


I love the beauties of the vale 
Where lovely flowrets bloom — 

I love the fragrance of the gale 
That dances with perfume. 


I love to watch the vap'ry crowds 
Those gems that mount the skies — 

I love to see the summer clouds 
In mountain form arise. 

I always love to gaze upon 

The orb of borrowed light: 
I love to see the rising sun 

Disperse the shades of night. 

Ye limpid lakes — ye purling streams — 

Ye grottos decked with spars— 
Ye twilight shades — ye noon-day beams, 

And ye soft twinkling stars; 

I love you, for your features smile 

With nature's sinless charm; 
But from your sphere, I'll turn awhile 

To nature's diff'rent form. 

To beauteous landscape, glen and glade, 

I bid a short farewell; 
To wander through the mystic shade 

Where metaphysics dwell. 

O'er mental fields, for once, I'll tread, 

Where feelings are combined; 
Where thoughts are trained, and passions bred, 

I'll trace the path of Mind. 

POEMS. 215 


Contexts.— 27ie parentage of Error— Joy at hn birth— His 
mother discovers his imbecility— Her night visit to Suspicion 
—Returns and informs her husband— They call a Council — 
The members of the Council— Deceit makes a proposition — Is 
sent to Lucifer for means— Returns with success— His mea- 
sures are adopted— The Council dissolves— Duplicity ^s feint 
for the public benefit, etc. 

The chronicles of other times record 
The veritable facts, that Prejudice 
And Ignorance were both betroth 'd at birth, 
And that their births were simultaneous. 

They early wedded, and their- nuptial tie, 
With birth of Error, joyously was crowned. 

While yet an infant : ere his tongue had learned 
The childish prattle, or his puny hand 
The potent grasp, young Error's fame had spread 
Thro'out the mental realm; and thousands sang 
In mellow strains, the praises of the child. 

Long live the parents, and long live the son, 
From tongue to tongue, reverberating spread, 
And fill'd the acme of devoted hearts. 

A crowd promiscuous, to the cradled child 
Their willing def'rence proffered; while those skilled 
In astrological prophetic lore. 
Predicted that in time not far remote, 
He'd wear the crown — the royal sceptre sway 
And hold the destinies of earth and heav'n. 


They, to immortal Mars, his lineage traced — 
Extol'd the child, and blest the ruling stars. 

'Twas more than bliss (if wild enthusiasm 
Can more bestow), the mother's bosom fill'd. 
While she officiously each real want. 
And want imaginary too, supplied. 

Not so with Prejudice: His stable soul. 
Scorning the petty flights of frantic joy, 
On principle undeviating, turned. 

pleased with the customs in his childhood taught — 
Calm, settled and dispassionate; but yet, 
None drank more deeply of the gen'ral joy 
Than Prejudice: and what the scribes foretold. 
None with intenser int'rest heard, than he. 
The prospect of his darling Error's fame, 
Like a strong magic, superhuman charm. 
On his inflexible corporeal frame. 
Its mighty all transforming pow'r displayed. 

His nerves so much like massy bars become. 
His grasp was not unlike the- grasp of death. 
His meagre form invulnerable grew, 
AU but his eyes. 

Time, with the parents, moved 
With pace accelerated, while they watch'd, 
Caress'd and dandled their beloved son. 

But yet, since nature's doom is fixed, that pain 
And pleasure ever shall go hand in hand, 
And thus, by turns, deal out their icneasured draughts, 
Or sometimes mingle in the tender 'd bowl; 


Just so anxiety filled up the space, 
If space remained in those fond parents' hearts, 
For Error could not walk without the aid 
Of both his parents to support his frame. 

Paternal love, dame nature's kindly gift 
To succor weakness and deformity; 
Had someway — how or why, it matters not: 
His sad defects from curious gazers, screen'd, 
But not from all. Maternal tenderness. 
That potent, most immutable of bonds — 
The most undeviating charm — a charm 
Which is by circumstances seldom warp'd; 
To fearless energies moved Ignorance' soul: 
And getting softly up one dismal night — 
Cautious, lest she should waken Prejudice, 
She crept away as slyly as the stni 
Low breath of night, thro' windings intricate, 
To that dark, moody cave, where far and wide, 
The famed Suspicion bends his churlish bow. 

"Thou'rt welcome, matron," old Suspicion said, 
"Come in: but pray, now in the depth of night. 
What could have brought you here? What ails the 

Then, looking thro' his old perspective tube. 
He said, "Ah now I see— Young Error is infirm, 
And there's great danger too, not far ahead: 
For in the distance now, I see the brave 
Young Truth, is gaining ground— he now ascends 
Yon hill. Conquest's insignia, amply lie 



Bestrown around him; and 'twill not be strange, 
If he the right of empire shall dispute, 
At no far distant day, with your dear son. 
Was Error's strength half equal to his size. 
Truth might in vain attempt to thwart his pow'r. 
Take potent measures now, without delay, 
And pray our guardian gods to bless the means: 
Once get your son enthron'd, and danger's past." 

Poor Ign'rance, tremMing like the aspen leaf, 
Arose and bade good night. "Excuse my haste, 
For morning shall not put her twilight forth, 
Nor spread a beam, till something is devls'd 
For my decrepid boy." 

She clos'd the door 
And that was all of thought that pass'd her soul, 
Till at her husband's bedside she called ouc, 
"My dear, awake!" "Where hast thou been, my 

Thou art the soul of life to me; and sleep 
Had not sat sweetly on my dropping lids, 
Had I but dream'd that you were far away. 
Why so disturb'd? Have evil spirits been. 
Like night's foul demons, robbing thee of rest? 
Thy throbbing heart and quickly beating pulse 
Alarm me." "Rise and I will tell thee all," 
Said Ignorance, with a suppressed sigh. 
"Last eve, as our dear child between us sat. 
And as I gaz'd upon his darling face— 
His placid eye with love's transcendent glance 

POEMS. 219 

So fully fraught; and then his massy form, 
Bending in inild submission low; bespoke 
At once a soul so dutiful — so meek, 
And so affectionate; my heart was full: 
And then I thought, though diligently, we 
Have ev'ry effort tried t'increase his strength; 
His muscles yet are like the liquid stream. 

These thoughts compress'd my head, e'en while 
Upon the nightly pillow I reclined: 
I then got stilly from thy side, and down 
To old Suspicion's dell, with timeless haste 
I ran; that if perchance, he might the means 
Devise in our behalf. But happier far. 
For me, if kind Suspicion's dismal glen 
I never chanc'd to find, unless ere long. 
The means — the antidote is found, that will 
Give Error strength, and ward impending ills. 
I do not speak of this to grieve thy heart: 
Forever in my bosom should it lie 
Conceal'd, and save your heart the bitter pang. 
'Tis better, if we can escape the ill. 
To feel the dread. Suspicion said to me 
That what is done, cannot be done too soon ; 
For there's one Truth, a bold, aspiring lad. 
That come, perhaps from some untutor'd race; 
Is making valiant conquests just below 
That cloud-top'd hill, which forms the line between 
Investigation's vastly wide domains, 
And the possessions of Stupidity. 
He's pushing on this way, a rapid march: 


No doubt intending to obtain the crown — 
To banish Error, or to stamp his name 
With marks of infamy indelibly." 

Ere Ignorance had clos'd this hurried speech, 
Her partner, Prejudice, had clad himself. 
And seated in his easy chair — his arms 
Were folded on his breast, and Ignorance 
Had knelt before him; when the little blaze, 
That tremor-like, above the embers rose; 
Darted a ray across his phiz, and then 
She saw upon his check, the stranger tear: 
For Prejudice had never wept till then. 
"My dear, it is no time for weeping now: 
Tears never sav'd a kingdom — we must up 
And stir ourselves, for 'tis the gen'ral wish 
Our son should get the crown." ' 'Yes, yes my love," 
Said Prejudice, half rising from his seat — 
"We'll have a Council call'd, of our best friends, 
Who shall assemble ere the morning dawns, 
In some deep, private place, that none may know 
How stem Necessity inspires our haste. 
For many, tho' they wish us well, and pray 
For Error's welfare; should they know his case. 
Would be no better friends than we should need." 

Then, taking down his little trump, he gave 
The special call that old Stupidity 
Was prompt to obey: for in his care alone 
They left the child whene'er they went abroad. 

Stupidity was their peculiar friend — 
They had attach 'd him to their interest 

POEMS. 221 

At Error's birth: and many times he's sat 
From one day's dawn until another's close, 
Beside the fav'rite child. And now, as quick 
As thought can move upon perception's glance, 
He comes, and on his long-accustom'd mat; 
Without a question, wherefore? why? or what? 
With due composure, seats himself. It was 
That quiet, calm, indifiference of soul. 
That constituted his congenial trait. 

'Twas midnight. — Darkness, thick as ever fell 
On Lapland's soil, scowl'd sullenly around. 
When those fond parents hurried from their home. 

Fell darkness was no cause of dread to them — 
And midnight but a spur to urge them on. 
Sure, nothing will buoy up the soul so long, 
Amid perplexing scenes, as hope and fear; 
And there's no prompter like Necessity; 
For Time had barely pass'd his midnight watch. 
Before the chosen friends had got the word 
In urgent haste, and had assembled too. 

Choice ones they were, and all of good rejjute — 
The highest dignitaries in the land — 
Of whom, was sober Superstition — grave. 
Sedate, and some inclin'd to be austere. 
The wise Tradition, ven'rable with age 
Was there. He'd won the hearts of aU, in youth. 
Until his influence was like the tall, 
Strong posts, which Sampson level'd when he slew 
The multitudes, and perish'din the midst. 

222 POEMS. 

He had been thro' the wars of olden times — 
Fatigue; and then so many years bad pass'd 
Around his head; a snowy whiteness ting'd 
His locks, which wav'd in graceful dignity: 
He look'd so wise and sanctimonious, 
His words were unequivocally law. 

Of equal rank, and not a distant kin 
To him, was Party-zeal. The holy fire 
Of patriotism fill'd his ardent soul: 
The welfare of his country was his best— 
His only claim 'd inheritance; and he 
Had sworn to advocate it, right or wrong. 
Tho' nature had, in some sly prank of hers, 
Robb'd him of his corporeal sight; still he 
Retain'd his mental vision quite intense- 
He held the office of Chief Magistrate. 

Yes, these, and many more of kindred blood, 
Were to the famous Council call'd: and each 
Submitted to the oath of secrecy. 
Which was administer'd by Party-zeal. 

The place selected, was a mystic maze, 
Where no nice, scrutinizing ken could reach; 
Where all were seated in a still surprise 
That well comported with the silence of 
The dark, dark night that spread its vail around. 
Poor Error's sad condition was to all 
Distressing news, of which, not one before, 
Except Suspicion, had presentiments. 

Blind Party-zeal arose rTheir eager eyes 
At once, instinctively were fix'd on him, 


Like the expectant infant's watchful look, 

That hangs upon the mother's countenance; 

While he proceeded thus: "Dearly belov'd, 

You know I am not privileg'd to read 

The feelings of your bosoms, in your looks, — 

But yet I feel within my soul, that all 

Join, with one int'rest, in the common cause. 

You truly know that I have ever been 

A faithful servant uf this commonwealth; 

And with the greatest pleasure would I be 

A servant still: And this I would propose: 

That whosoever will devise the means 

Effectual, for the object now in view, 

Shall be awarded with the second place 

In rank of all imperial dignities — 

To be eusur'd hereditary right, 

As soon as Error shall obtain the crown. 

If you approve the plan, adopt it soon — 
Let not a moment pass inertly by, 
That has great consequences pending on." 

The motion of old Party-zeal, was heard 
With gladness; for in such a doubtful case, 
No sacrifice could be too great; and no 
Inducement of reward, be rais'd too high. 

An instrument was drawn in legal form. 
Which would secure the honorary grant; 
To which they severally subscrib'd. 

Then aU 
Was still as the low mansions of the dead: 


None dar'd— none wish'd to speak, lest hapless he 
Should interrupt some half-way moulded scheme. 
Thus for the space of two well measur'd hours, 
The members of the Council sat. 

The faint, 
Blue twilight of the morning had begun 
To play around them, when Deceit arose. 
"My friends," said he, "give audience: I've a plan 
That will, if promptly executed, meet 
The present crisis. I would gladly spare 
Your feelings friends; but this is not a time 
For flattery — and therefore be assur'd 
There's nothing kept in Hades, Earth, or Heav'n, 
That would empoAver our young Prince to act 
When unsupported by his parents' aid. 
Yet if they will submit (submit they must, 
For 'tis the only hope) to be confin'd 
In secrecy forever at his side; 
I'll get the cloak my royal father wore 
With- such success to Eden's garden, when 
He gave the happy pair forbidden fruit. 
It is constructed with expansive pow'rs 
Which might extend it to a monstrous size: 
And then 'tis of a texture so unlike 
All else: it suits all seasons of the year — 
All business, all occasions, and all climes. 
'Twould clasp around young Error's neck, and hang 
In such nice, intricately plaited folds; 
That Prejudice and Ignorance might stand 
Beneath, on either side, and skillfully 
Bear him erect, in spite of common sense." 

POEMS. 225 

"Go then," said Prejudice, "we'll have it tried. 
While you are absent, Ignorance and I 
Will go and have our son in waiting here." 

"Make haste," said Party-zeal, in a low tone, 
To young Formality; "provide a steed. 
And mount Deceit, and speed him on his way." 
No sooner said than done. 

Then like a swift 
Skylark, they saw him flit across the white 
Aerial plains, and like a little speck, 
Almost invisible, that floats upon 
The moving air; they saw him sink beneath 
The broad horizon's low, encircling arch ; 
Onward he flies, tho' far beyond the reach 
Of other ken than that of spirits wild. 
That are let loose abroad the airy fields 
Of false imagination. Passing through 
Black misty glens of vapors volatile, 
And miry pits where fell confusion hiss'd; 
At length he reach'd the habitation of 
The great, notorious Lucifer. 

Was second son to his dark majesty. 
Who was enraptur'd to embrace once more 
His well beloved son; and anxious too. 
To hear, thro' him, the present state of things 
In the new world: he deeply felt for them — 
Being a colony he planted there. 
Long, long ago— a puny thing at first. 


But he had sent them annual supplies; 

And had transfer'd to them, the Government, 

With the advice that they should rear a king. 

'Twas Lucifer that whisper'd to the scribes 

And the astrologers, at Error's birth, 

That he should hold the reins of Government. 

When the infernal monarch heard Deceit 
Explain the business of his morning ride, 
He smiled approval to the wily scheme. 
Then giving him the cloak, and bidding him 
Good speed; he sent him on his way. 

Retrod the dubious track — when gazing still. 
The anxious members of the Council spied. 
Amidst the softly gliding, vap'ry clouds, 
A little something fast approximate, 
Until within the province of their sight: 
Wheji lo! the hero came. Error was there 
In readiness; for it was then mid-day. 

The steed selected for the champion's use 
Was Popularity — surefooted, he 
Was much the safest beast in all the realm. 
To journey on an unfrequented way; 
His pace was easy to the rider, too. 

"Thou'rt welcome back again," said Party-zeal: 
As bold Deceit dismounted, and the kind 
Formality secur'd the gorgeous reins: 
"You've been successful too— I gladly see 

POEMS. 227 

The precious cloak is folded on your arm. 
Well you have fairly, altho' cheaply won 
For you an everlasting rank." "Stay, stay," 
Said Superstition, " 'tis a heinous sin 
To talk of such unhallow'd trifles now: 
But try the garment, brave Deceit, and see 
Whether 'twill answer the design or not." 

His tone inspir'd a reverential awe; 
For e't^n his motions were imperative; 
And they all felt that Party-zeal had sinn'd: 
So they look'd sadly grave, to make amends. 

On Error's shoulders, then the cloak was hung 
While, sire and mother stood beneath each arm. 
Achilles' armor did not fit so well 
His fair Patroclus, as this fitted all. 

Joyful to find the scheme complete; some gave 
A shout— and even Superstition smil'd, 
And bowing down to Error, wish'd him peace. 
And an immortal reign. 

Declining day 
Began to deck itself in sable shades. 
Reminding them of home. Accordingly, 
When they had sev 'rally agreed to spread 
The word that Prejudice and Ignorance 
Had died on yesternight; and they had been 
To the performance of the obsequies— 
That the bereaved Error was array'd 
In mourning deep; they left the wild recess — 
Dispersing to their sev'ral homes, except 


Duplicity, who secretly threw up, 

Beneath the supple willow's boughs, two mounds, 

Of equal length and side by side: and there 

The population ran -wath pious zeal. 

To pay to the departed ones, their last, 

Best honors; and to worship at their shrines. 

For soon the tidings, like the fiercest gale 

That sinks the forest low, had reach'd their ears. 

And young Credulity pronounc'd it true. 

We'll leave them now in this promiscuous scene — 
Some sad — some feigning sadness— deeply all 
Are sympathizing in th' expected joy. 
Awaiting Error's coronation day: 
And we will take a passing view beyond 
That long, wild, angling, cloud-top'd hill — that mount. 
Which rises on the other side of those 
Extensive, smooth, and barren plains, which were. 
And are, life-leas'd to old Stupidity. 



Contents.— CoMversaiion between Investigation and Candor 
concerning the courtship of Inquiry and Knowledge — In- 
quiry obtains consent— Their nuptials— Inquiry^s narrative 
—Birth of Truth— His prospects— The infant Experience — 
His predecessor's visit to the parents— Conversation — His 
bequest— Departure, etc. 

"You know, dear wife," Investigation said 
To his beloved Candor, as they walked 
Abroad one moonlight eve, "that noble lad, 
Surnamed Inquiry, frequently has spent 
The social hour with us, and have we not 
Observed, when our fair daughter, Ejiowledge comes, 
Unconsciously she draws him to her side, 
While hand in hand they tread the flow'ry walks 
Supremely happy in a mutual love? 

WeU, yesternight, as he and I, alone 
Beside the open window sat and gazed 
Upon the clear full moon that spreads her beams 
And bides the unassuming stars; my mind 
Strayed far away in those deep labyrinths 
That twine and intertwine like gilded clouds 
Around creation's folded mysteries. 
But other thoughts possess'd Inquiry's brain. 
He whisper'd in my ear that he would fain 
Make one request, and could not be denied. 
Then said, most bashfully, 'For EJuowledge, Sir, 
I ask: I love her, and would sacrifice 

230 POEMS. 

My all, if on no other terms, I could 
The purchase make, and take her to myself.' 
In earnestness of soul, he'd lowly bow'd 
Upon his knees. I told him, I might grant 
His noble wish, but must consult thee first." 

"Ah, yes," said Candor, for her gentle heart 
Was frank and open, as the light of noon 
Without a cloud: "I knew long time ago 
That his affections were intently fix'd 
Upon our child; and often have I turned 
Aside, to hide the voluntary smile, 
As I beheld how modestly she shunn'd 
His fond pursuit and kind caressing tones 
To her, till he grew sociable with us. 

Inquiry was so shy of us at first, 
I even thought 'twas his intent to steal 
Fair Knowledge ofi" and never ask consent. 
However that might be, she cautiously 
Refused attentions protfered her, until 
Her parents had received a due respect; 
And just so fast as he grew intimate 
With us; so fast she laid aside her cold 
And distant mien, and grew affectionate. 
He truly is a youth of promise, and 
He bears so great resemblance to thyself, 
I think him worthy of her; and I know 
If he does not abuse her, she will prove 
A treasure richer far than golden gems." 

Then Candor ask'd her lord's consent, to give 
Permission to the sage Experience; 


And off he sped to let Inquiry know 
That kind Investigation and his spouse, 
Would have him wed the idol of his heart. 

They, who have felt the close tormenting chain 
Of doubtful hope; and seen it terminate 
In the possession of their dearest wish ; 
Know best, how young Inquiry felt at the 
Reception of the joyful news. 

He soon 
Attir'd himself to fit the bridal hour: 
A plain, fuU suit, he chose, for, such, he knew 
Would better please Investigation's eye. 
Than splendid robes and dazzling ornaments. 

While he made ready. Perseverance got 
The coach equip'd; for Pcseverance had 
Attended him as coachman, always when 
He paid his visits to his love: Tho' once, 
He undertook the toux- with Indolence, 
But then he lost his way, and wander'd home. 

All things in readiness— Inquiry took 
His customary seat with throbbing heart; 
And bade the coachman drive and "tarry not 
In all the plain," nor heed the craggy steeps. 
Nor swelling streams. 

Delighted Knowledge saw 
The coach arrive; for on that morning she 
Had deck'd herself for him, with richest pearls. 
She look'd most fair; and in her sparkling eyes 


There was a glow so full of meaning, she 

Might well have won an angel's love. With speed 

Like thought, Inquiry left the carriage seat. 

And at Investigation's feet, he bow'd, 

Then press'd a kiss on gentle Candor's hand. 

But only gave a smile to her he lov'd; 

For she was not his own, and he had learn'd 

Ere then, that he must pluck the flow'r before 

He quaff' d its fragrancy. 

The bridal hour 
Ari-iv'd, but brought with it no pompous show: 
And no vain, jesting crowd assembled there. 

Intelligence politely notified 
A few associates, and seated them 
Genteelly in the spacious drawing room; 
And Candor saw Inquiry plac'd, and then 
Investigation led the bride to him— 
Squire Application rose, and legally 
Perform'd the sacred rite. 

The service o'er — 
The fair Complacency serv'd round the treat. 
In golden cups, nature's pure bev'rage flow'd; 
While platters loaded with the choicest fruits; 
And every rich variety of Art, 
By Diligence and Industry prepar'd; 
In lib'ral hospitality were spread; 
And all, with cheerfulness, partook of a 
Rich nuptial feast, while Affability, 
In sweetest strains, his liveliest harp attun'd. 


"My children," said Investigation, to 
The wedded paii-, when all the guests were gone: 
"It is our wish that you should not 
Depart from us. I've wide, extensive fields- 
Fine verdant plains, and forests spreading far, 
And rich, unfathom'd mines; All, all shall be 
At your command, provided you remain. 
You both are young, and Knowledge needs, as yet, 
A mother's care. Our old Experience 
Is settled here, and he is vastly rich 
In all the precious stones of ancient use — 
'Twould be his happiness to serve you here." 

"0 how shaU I repay thy kindness, Sir," 
The son replied: "Thanks seem too mean a gift 
To offer now; but ever will I be 
A dutious, faithful child. Thou knowest well 
The colony in yon adjacent realm; 
And my possessions lay so nearly by, 
That intercourse with the inhabitants 
Was unavoidable: Though had I known 
Them better at the first, I never would 
Have suffer'd such repeated wrongs." "What wrongs?" 
Inquir'd Investigation. "Let me hear. 
They've often tried their black, infernal tricks 
On me: but I've chastis'd them sorely and 
They now seem weary of their^base pursuit." 

"My hardy servant, Perseverance, is 
A bold, courageous fellow, otherwise 
I heartily believe, I never should 
Have press'd this lovely jewel to my heart. 


Or call'd her mine," Inquirj^ said; "for all 

The machinations mischief could invent, 

I've had to stem. Suspicion does profess 

To tell deep hidden things: At any rate, 

Those round about him, intimated long 

Ago that Knowledge had bewitch'd my heart; 

And ever since, they've throng'd my house by day. 

And pillag'd my possessions in the night. 

Such profi'er'd friendship hung upon their lips, 

They stole away my richest goods, before 

I could believe their treachery. Oft times 

Blind Party-zeal has counseled me, with tears; 

And warn'd me to beware of you; and told 

Such frightful tales— how you tormented all 

That ever come, till they grew idiots: 

I really was afraid of thee. E'en old 

Deceit has spent whole weeks convincing me 

That thy fair daughter, Knowledge, w^as a sheer 

Impostor— that the sage Tradition had 

The genuine fair; and thine was but a proud 

Disdainful thing. Well, in suspense I went 

And ask'd Tradition. 'Yes,' he said; but did 

Not introduce her, though I waited long. 

He recommended Credence as a match 

Best fitting me. He said she was so mild, 

So pleasant, tame, and peaceable, that one 

Might spend a life more quietly with her, 

Than any lass he knew. And more than that; 

If I'd accept of her, he'd make me heir 

To his estate. His riches are immense— 

His landed titles of anterior date. 

POEMS. 235 

Would have supported me in luxury 
And idleness. 

I've some acquaintance with 
Miss Credence — She's a pleasant thing indeed; 
But she's decidedly too tame for me, 
For ev'ry passing stranger might enjoy 
Her charms in common vrith myself. I hate 
A soul so spiritless. 

The influence 
Those beings held o'er me, has cost me much; 
Distanc'ing me from Candor and thyself— 
And Knowledge was so cold to me, I 'gan 
To think, what Superstition said, was true. 
He told me Knowledge was of birth too high 
For me to gain; and by persisting on, 
I should heap endless' curses on my head. 

But Perseverance urg'd me still to try 
My fortune here; and many times he drove, 
My carriage thro' thick show'rs of missiles, thrown 
By their light troops that scouted round." 

Thus clos'd 
Inquiry's narrative. And with a fine 
Refreshing walk among the fragrant flow'rs 
That spread their sweetness out, as if t' atone 
For the departure of the setting sun; , 
They clos'd the wedding day. 

O, who would not 
Have felt the heavy weight of sadness, if 


Forbidden to assemble oft with this 
Delightful group, as time pursued its course, 
And seasons pass'd most iDleasantly away? 

But when the gracious Spirit bless 'd them with 
A son, the lovely Truth, so beaiatiful; 
To grace their board; methinks an angel might 
Have heav'd a sigh of sorrow, if debar'd 
The satisfaction of commingling there. 
For Truth bore in his infant countenance 
The impress of Divinity; and the 
Clear light of morning seem'd made up of shades 
Of mingled brown, contrasted with the pure 
Bright beams that emanated from his eye: 
And he was like a constellation in 
Inquiry's view; whose spirit was enlarg'd; 
And while he lov'd his son to ecstacy, 
His fond esteem for Knowledge lessen'd not— 
She was still more beiov'd on Truth's account. 

One evening twilight, when the noble jjair • 
Were seated side by side, and with sweet smiles 
And mutual love, caress 'd the cherub child; 
Inquiry said, to his fair consort, thus: 
"My love, e'er since the birth-day of our own 
Angelic Truth, maternal watchfulness, 
Like a delightful spell that never seeks 
Relief from fond solicitude, has bound 
Thee gently to Ms cradled infancy. 
E'en nearer than myself. 

Hast thou observ'd 
Amidst thy constant watchings, round his head, 


A halo of transcendent brightness play, 

With grandeur greater than the eye could scan?" 

"O yes, and truly long I've "wish'd to join 
With thee, my spouse, in converse sweet upon 
This topic; for it has engross 'd my mind 
By day and night. I've even dar'd to think 
Our child of a celestial origin, 
Sent here a noble purpose to fulfil; 
For at his birth, bright spirits from the skies 
Were hov'ring round about. I've often seen 
His features glow with dazzling radiance, and 
His eyes directed upward with intense 
And fix'd expression, and I truly think 
He was communing with the upper w^orld. 

Dost thou not well remember v/hen my sire. 
With deep-ton'd fei*vor, has commented on 
Those records of anterior date, which Time 
Has left in his possession — how he oft rehears 'd 
Tales of deep int'rest, when in olden times 
A conduit, unobstructed with dark clouds 
Of wickedness, or sightless fogs of doubt; 
Was free and open 'twixt the upper skies 
And this our lowly residence: And then, 
Bright spirits often mingled with our race." 

"Yes," said Inquiry— "Change will never blot 
From the broad page of my remembrance, those 
Ecstatic thoughts my swelling bosom thnll'd, 
When thy lov'd Sire, Investigation, sketch'd 
The splendid sceneries of ages past: 

238 POEMS. 

And now my spirit burns within me, when 
I look with thoughtfulness upon the form 
Of our beloved little one; and think 
He's sent to us, again to usher in 
A brilliant scene of things, surpassing all 
The records have ascrib'd to olden times." 

The joyous soul of Knowledge, sparkled in 
Her eye, as her loved consort tinished thus. 
Their evening colloquy. 

Weeks congregated into months, and months 
Roll'd up the year. Young Truth, with placid look. 
Was gazing on the smiling countenance 
Of his late welcom'd brother. 

Morn, fair morn 
Had just spread forth her earliest, faintest ray 
Abroad the canopy of nature, when 
Inquiry whisper 'd to his spouse; as both 
Sat most affectionately by the side 
Of Truth and the then nameless one: "My love, 
A knock is at the gate — who should intrude 
Upon the sacred quietude of this 
First dawn of day?" He had no sooner clos'd 
His query, than the porter usher'd in 
Experience, the aged fav'rite of 
The generation just gone by. 

"I beg. 
Your pardon, youthful friends," said he, "for this 
Untimely call. Business like mine, demands 

POEMS. 239 

An hour that shall precede the presence of 
The quizzing multitude. I'd fain confer 
With you, upon a subject which concerns 
Yourselves not only; but will much affect 
The public weal. Last night, ere twilight down. 
The keen, bright-eyed Discernment, who resides 
Across the way; call'd at my residence. 
And in her usual, shrewd, prophetic style, 
Discours'd to me about your elder son: 
Saying that his proud destiny ordain'd 
For him to reach the highest summit of 
Yon lofty hill, whose tow 'ring eminence, 
Projects above the influence of the clouds — 
That he shall be triumph anlly enthron'd 
In that palladium of honor, while 
Its rich, emblazon 'd spires superbly wave 
High o'er fehe brightest of the orbs above. 

Well, as upon my sleepless couch I lay; 
I ponder'd o'er those things, and ponder'd too 
About myself— how illy I appear'd, 
To bear companionship with Truth in such 
A splendid, bold career. My features are 
Too earthly, and my voice too tremulous — 
My form uncouth, too freely savors of 
The carnal mould. Train'd from my early youth 
In old Tradition's school; and often class'd 
With reckless Ignorance; my mind receiv'd 
An impulse that full often downward tends — 
My garments are too much encumber'd with 
The useless trappings of the ages past! 

240 POEMS. 

I therefore never shall aspire to tread 
An upward course of equal height with you: 
But if my name you will confer upon 
Your younger son; I will bequeath to you, 
For him, and for the benefit of all 
The future advocates of Truth; the whole 
Of my estate, comprising all the spoils 
Of conquests won, and treasures gather'd up 
By centuries of toil; and sparkling gems 
From deep sequester'd mines; brought forth by the 
Strong burthen-bearer, concentrated Thought. 

Thus I'll dispose of my effects: and then 
In person I will cheerfully retire 
Anon, and seek a peaceful quietus 
Down in Oblivion's glen, and seat myself 
Beside the purling streams, where silently 
Lethe's cool waters, soft and gently flow. 

Beneath the care of Knowledge— by the side 
Of Truth, the young Experience will grow 
Like a young x)lant beside the water brooks — 
His features will like polish'd gems appear. 
And light and glory shine upon his path." 

The parents, grateful for the gen'rous flow 
Of patriotism, the sage Experience 
So frankly proffer'd them, return'd their thanks 
With mutual promise that the infant should 
Henceforward, to his mem'ry, bear his name. 

"But," said Experience, "one subject more 
Demands a prompt attention. Contrast is 
The talisman of pure Intelligence; 



Therefore my blooming namesake's features, must, 

From time to time, in bold comparison. 

Be shown with my pale, shadowy countenance. 

It little will avail, altho' his form 
Should grow as fair as Lebanon, and rise 
As high as her tall cedars, should it not 
Occasionally be in contrast plac'd 
With my low, meagre personage." 

Said Knowledge, *'it is truly so: but then. 
It seems thou hast thy purpose fix'd, to hide 
Thyself forever in obscurity. ' ' 

"Prompt to your service," said the aged one, 
"I'll hold myself in constant readiness, 
And when the friends of Truth shall call 
With clear, sonorous voice; with swiftness of 
The lightning's flash, or like a spirit, sent 
From nether spheres remote; I will come forth 
And stand beside the young Experience, 
To aid you in your future struggles with 
The neighb'ring Commonwealth." "What struggles, 

Inquiry said, with keen solicitude. 

" 'Tis not my province to prognosticate 
In things to come," replied Experience. 

"Last night. Discernment bid me take one peep 
Ahead, thro' her perspective tube; else I 
Had never made this morning call. I saw 
That youngster of gigantic stature, who 
Is highly doated on in yonder realm; 



Aspire to be the hero of his clan, 
And monarch of surrounding realms. But my 
Weak vision could not circumscribe those things; 
And my faint elocution can't describe 
E'en what I plainly saw. Discernment will 
Instruct you freely in those mysteries: 
Meantime, be sure from what I saw and heard, 
That nothing augurs harm to yours and you." 

Then, after having made the said transfer 
Of Goods and Chatties, Lands and Tenements; 
The Sage, with an affectionate farewell, 
Took his departure for the "Land of Nod." 


CoNTENTS.--27ie scene opens with the sound of war—Surprise 
of young Experience—The manner of Truth composes him— 
Description of Truth — Investigation muster's his forces— 'The 
storm— The friends of Truth assemble around his standard— 
The storm subsides— Inquiry goes forth to ascertain its 
effect— TJie cause of the storm— Description of Falsehood by 
Investigation— The group disperses— The nativity of Truth — 
His mission — His visit to the mountain arbor in company 
with Experience— Invocation — A seraph meets them — His 
instructions and departure— Sereyiade. 

Like the loud crash of coming tempest, when 
Its furious blast lays low the forest pride; 
And like the roar of far-off thunder peals 


Upon the ear of midnight; came the sound 
Of war. 'Twas not a war of elements — 
'Twas not a war of winds and waves— a strife 
Of nature, when her laws in contact wage 
A furious contest; seeming to forget 
Th' eternal chain that binds varieties, 
And of ten thousand times ten thousand; forms 
One great— one grand, consolidated whole. 

No; 'twas a warfare, of an origin 
Long, long anterior to the earliest tread 
Of Time upon Earth's checker'd carpeting; 
'Twixt Truth and Error: and relentlessly; 
Though oft the scene is chang'd from place to place — 
Although the sceneiy is oft renewed; 
The never ending contest rages yet. 

The young Experience had not growTi up 
To manhood, ere the hoarse, discordant sound 
Of war, fell on his unaccustom'd ear; 
And with its thunders, chas'd beyond his ken, 
Those fair illusions of refin'd repose. 
His cradled dreams had on his vision sketch 'd. 
A momentary shade came o'er his brow 
At first; but soon the shadow was dispel'd 
By the commanding countenance of Truth, 
Who had become a youth of stature fine — 
Of mein majestic as the tow'ring fir 
That rears its disk amid the forest wild. 
He spoke a pure — a perfect dialect. 
And one unlike to that in common use; 
Fraught with a mild, yet bold austerity — 
Such as his enemies could never brook. 


To prove that Truth had enemies, is but 
To prove that no existence ever could 
Be known as such, without its opposite — 
That contrast is Creation's pulse— her great 
Thermometer of being— her grand scale, 
In which to illustrate realities. 

Truth knew no fear; and the war-clarion's sound 
Most surely would have fall'n upon his ear 
Like the sweet music of the summer breeze; 
Had its shrill notes but come to summon him 
To honorable war; where strife with strife 
Was openly and honorably wag'd — 
A contest where e'en fierce hostility 
Descended not to measures basely mean — 
Where "sword with sword — armor with armor join'd," 
With purpose noble and a noble foe. 

Investigation heard the rude alarm, 
And with a purjDos'd aim to place himself 
In the proud front of battle; marshalling 
His gathering hosts, prepar'd to meet the fight. 

Candor essay 'd to bear him company: 
For to her noble lord, her gentle heart 
As closely clung, as twines the ivy round 
The sturdy oak; and in her constant care 
For him, she heeded not what might befall 
Herself, e'en though oppos'd to hostile foes. 
But then the beardless boy, Experience 
Essay'd to urge the impropriety 


For one so gentle, delicate, and fair, 
To dare presume to stem the tide of war. 

With deeply chasten'd thought, and looks abash 'd- 
Feellng as virtuous woman ever feels 
When fearful lest her deep solicitude 
Has borne her o'er the line that bounds her sphere; 
Candor retir'd nor sought the scene of strife. 

Before the shrill, reverberating sound, 
The thrilling peal of "march," had gone abroad— 
WhUe many hearts dilated— many a pulse 
With an accelerated motion beat 
With hope, for vict'ry's crested diadem; 
Lo, on a sudden, from th' horizon's disk 
Which mantles o'er the fields of Prejudice; 
A cloud, of fearful import, black as night 
Appears where darkness holds her revelries 
Beneath the hidden stars: by boist'rous gales 
Impel'd, and rife with blasting thunderbolts 
That seem'd to shake creation's self; roll'd on, 
And strew'd unsparingly the with'ring force 
Of its tremendous howl! It was mid-day. 
But scarce a solitary beam of light. 
Which emanated from the glorious orb 
On high, could penetrate the low'ring cloud 
Of storm, that hid the canopy above; 
Except where Truth had riveted his stand, 
And stood immovable. 

Where he had fix'd 
His pedestal and rear'd his standard — there 


His ensign wav'd on high, and fearlessly- 
Defied a storm that mock'd the elements, 
And in commotion wrapt the world abroad. 
There, there was light, in spite of all the wild, 
Chaotic darkness rudely howling round. 
T' escape, if possible, unscath'd amid 
The coming blast; as if by instinct drawn; 
Investigation's military host, 
And their associating kindred friends. 
With nimble footsteps gather'd 'round the spire 
Of the inflexible and dauntless Truth. 

At length the storm, with all its noise, assuag'd, 
And Hope's celestial rays dififus'd abroad 
Her cheering influence o'er the scenery; 
While a commingling beam of radiance shone 
From the bright countenance of noble Truth. 

Investigation sent Inquiry forth 
To ascertain whatever the efi'ect — 
If aught of consequence— or good or ill. 

Some traces had remain'd, but they were few, 
And small, compar'd with the great tumult and 
The noise that rag'd abroad. Some "hangers on," 
Who stood as advocates for Truth, when all 
Was sunshine, calm, and clear; but when the cloud 
Arose; ran off", like goats affrighted, to 
The neighb'ring province. Others, too, 
Who previously had stood erect; bow'd down 
Beneath the weight of atmosphere— condens'd 
With wild Confusion's hiss; but when the storm 


Pass'd by, they soon regain'd their former height, 
And proper attitude. 

But many were 
Of such unyielding texture, and so near 
Allied to Truth; and to his standard had 
Adher'd so close; they laugh'd amid the storm: 
A storm, which, though it baflled nature, had 
Much less to do with nature than with art; 
As was discover'd near that evening's close, 
Whose twilight introduc'd itself upon 
A large, and smiling circle, seated round 
The threshold of Inquiry; talking o'er 
Such thoughts as the occasion might inspire: 
When eagle-eyed Discernment, rising up; 
Address'd the audience thus: "Beloved friends 
Amid your conversations I have sat 
As mutely as a soulless thing should sit, 
Beneath the sound of tall Intelligence, 
Prompted by Erudition's polish'd wand. 
Mine is a silent, not an idle muse; 
My thoughts have been abroad — My studious mind, 
So w6nt to search the lowest depths, and climb 
To uppei heights, has been conversing with 
The laws of clouds and storms; and I have found 
The ruling cause, and corresponding means, 
Producing the tornado, which, to-day, 
Caus'd our unlook'd for interruption, and 
Now clothes the skies in lurid mistiness. 
My mind has trac'd its origin. It rose 
In yonder province. There's a fruitful forge, 
Where storms, and clouds, and all that sort of thing. 


Are freely manufactured. 'Tis a forge, 
According to the tales of fabled times; 
Not all unlike to that which Vulcan us'd 
On Lemnos' Isle, in casting thunderbolts 
For his great father, Jupiter. The forge 
From which tumult'ous troubles come to us, 
Is located in the vicinity 
Of famous Error, son of Ignorance 
And Prejudice. It is committed to 
The faithful care of Bigotry: and the 
Whole operation is perform'd by one 
Whose vigilance and persevering skill 
Can never be surpass'd. Scandal, and lies. 
Detraction, slander, vile abuse, and all 
That catalogue of black ingredients, 
Are the constituent materials — 
The compound base, of his infernal works." 

Inquiry then arose, and earnestly 
Begg'd old Investigation to declare 
The name of that great artisan of storms; 
Saying, "If we can trace the monster out; 
We'll spoil his Avorks, and overthrow the cause 
Of those invet'rate enemies of Truth." 

"TJiat famous champion, is Falsehood," said 
Investigation. "It will be in vain 
To hope for his destruction; for his soul 
Is made invulnerable, by the great 
Founder ol that rude province, Lucifer; 
Who has bequeath'd it for the benefit. 


Use, and behoof of those inhabitants, 
So long as they, their efforts shall combine 
In the support of Error. Though his form 
Should be prostrated, and destroy'd; his soul, 
Still extant Phoenix-like, would mould itself 
Another body, and perchance a shape 
Some differing from the last, for its abode: 
But still it would survive, and still pursue, 
In form, whatever circumstance might clioose; 
His nature-woven — his instinctive trade — 
That fiendish art, by satan's self, inspir'd. 
And therefore, fruitless will all efforts prove, 
To clear from yon horizon, those thick mists 
Of darkness, which obstruct the trav'ler's view; 
While Prejudice and Ignorance remain. 

The information from Discernment gain'd, 
Will aid in future movements, which we may 
Devise in operations form'd to quell 
Hostilities, which formidable grow, 
And day by day producing fresh annoy. 

Henceforth, to meet dishonorable foes 
On honorable terms, we need not hope; 
But we must keep in warlike readiness; 
Lest Error take us unawares; and we, 
In recklessness, unarm'd, to contest drawn; 
Should prove unvaliant in the cause of Truth." 

Thus clos'd Investigation's speech. The day 
Was folding on the crest of midnight, its 
Expanded robe — the interesting group 
Dispers'd, each to his dwelling: musingly 

250 POEMS. 

Some went, and some in converse cheer'ly join'd 
Upon the curious termination of 
The bold campaign, to which that morning's dawn 
Had call'd them forth; with only Falsehood's blast, 
Without the glory and the pomp of war. 

Far, far above the lofty, tow'ring peak 
Of that high mountain, o'er whose noble base, 
Truth's mighty ^banner wav'd most gracefully; 
Is an immortal citadel of Fame— 
The bright palladium of Honor — form'd 
By skill supernal and by higher pow'r 
Than earthly — pois'd securely far above 
The reach of clashing elements — beyond 
The scathing hand of Time's impetuous change. 

'Tis Truth's eternal mansion — the abode 
Of his nati\dty — the glorious crown 
Of that immortal — that celestial sphere. 
Whence the Great Spirit, the high Ruler of 
The worlds on high; commission'd him to tread 
The courts below — t'emblazon Earth — to give 
To Time, an everlasting consequence — 
To place substantially on nature's brow, 
Imperishable gems — to gather out 
From human life's impervious labyrinths 
Of mixture and confusion; every thing 
Of noble mien: all, all that dare confront 
The sway of Error: and to overthrow 
All base dominions, and to reinstate 
Usurp'd authorities— to rally round 
His spire, a true, high-aiming, faithful band, 


And train them for his native citadel: 
To mark tte way, and lead them upward to 
That splendid port — that palace of Renown, 
Beyond the portals of Eternity. 

Such was his royal mission, and he fear'd 
No nether pow'rs, with forces all combin'd; 
For his sweet intercourse with hosts that dwelt 
In realms of light, was free and unrestrain'd. 

After the tumult of that blust'ring day; 
In company with blithe Experience; 
Truth sought his usual recreation for 
The midnight hour; and in his self -wrought path. 
Which he, and none beside, had often trod; 
They reach'd the fav'rite mountain's summit. There 
Within a fragrant arbor deck'd with vines 
Of spicy sweetness, and luxuriant flow'rs — 
With boughs which bent beneath the luscious weight 
Of rich, delicious fruit, in mellowness 
That mock'd decay; Truth and his brother sat 
Like monarchs o'er the scenes beneath their feet. 

"Would'st thou behold a lovely Seraph's face. 
And hear instruction flowing from the lips 
Of an inhabitant of yonder sphere?" 
Said Truth 

Experience' smiling countenance. 
With approbative silence, spoke consent; 
When Truth, with eye uprais'd invokingly 
Pour'd his effusion thus, 

252 POEMS. 

Fly, fly Spirit, fly, 

Thou Seraph in light; 
While the stars are on high 

To sanctify night: 
Come down in thy beauty, 

And yield us a charm — 
Let us bask in thy glory, 

And gaze on thy form. 

Come, come to thy bower— 

The vines are in bloom — 
Each Eden-like flower 

Is rife with perfume. 
The fair boughs are bending 

With rich mellow fruit — 
Soft zephyrs are blending, 

To hail thy salute. 

O come, Spirit come — 

Heav'n's portals are wide: 
Why should'st thou at home 

Forever abide? 
Come, come to thy arbor. 

Thy sweet scented bow'r; 
'Tis grievous to harbor 

Thy absence, an hour. 

Thou cherish'd above, 

In sinless domains; 
Where th' spirit of Love 

Eternally reigns. 


POEMS. 253 

Thy music has measure, 

Earth seldom has known: 
O come; we will treasure 

Each full meaning tone. 

O Thou, of that throne 

Which Seraphs surround; 
Where light is thy zone, 

With majesty crown'd: 
Thou mighty Eternal, 

O now send her forth, 
Whose^orm is supernal — 

Whose nature, all worth. 

The invocation gently rose upon 

The light ethereal wave, like incense borne 

From off the holy altar, when its fire 

Consumes an unadulterated gift, 

By sacred hands spread out in sacrifice: 

When lo! obedient to the pray'r of Truth; 

A form, of more than mortal beauty, came. 

Descending on a lucid azure ray — 

A heavenly nymph! 'Twas Wisdom — Wisdom's self- 

The uncreated, true original 

Of ev'ry counterfeit of excellence — 

Of ev'ry ideal form, and fairy shape 

That calls for worshippers; from Pallas and 

Minerva, deities iramortaliz'd 

With ancient Grecian fame; e'en down to her, 

Proud England's present royal Queen, the last 

Of worship 'd idols of imperial courts. 

254 POEMS. 

She oame:— Her awe inspiring dignity, 
O'er the warm heart of young Experience; 
Spread an o'erpow'ring charm — a spell of fear 
And sweet astonishment, until he was 
Insensibly entranc'd: his pulses died 
Away; and life with him was ebbing low, 
Until the genial, life inspiring voice 
Of Wisdom — the sweet incense of her breath — 
Her gentle, placid tones — her whispers soft 
And bland; restor'd him back to consciousness 
And free reciprocating thought; and then 
She smiPd upon him. That one sinile^ had more 
Of the true spirit of Philosophy, 
And more of Inspiration, than the whole 
Grey catalogue of grim astrologers 
That ever wav'd the dubious magic wand; 
And more than e'er evaporated thro' 
The tripod screen of Delphi's oracle. 
'Twas full of meaning, grac'd with common-sense; 
And 'neath its potent, fascinating charm, 
The youth, restor'd to vigor, and endow'd 
With strength, and gifts, and faculties, that he, 
'Till then, had not possess'd; sat meekly down 
At Wisdom's feet: and she address'd him thus: 

" Brother, I call thee such, for such thou wert 
To me in yonder world, from whence we came. 
And where I still abide; except at times, 
I come to Truth to cheer his loneliness. 
And watch, unseen, about your youthful steps. 

Your recollection, now adapted to 

POEMS. 255 

Your present state; has lost its former hold 
On things eternal, and has dropp'd the claim 
By which you held me in fraternal bonds 
Beside thee, in our social native home. 
There kindred love exists. 

Aflfection's ties 
Are sever'd — consanguinity divorc'd, 
When e'er a spirit condescends to come 
To tabernacle with the sons of men. 
But not forever : When the living clay. 
By death is smitten, and returns to dust; 
The spirit, back again, instinctive flies 
Home to its loving, lov'd associates. 

And now, young Brother; since thy days are few 
On earth; let me admonish you in love. 
Cling to your brother's standard — ever be 
With him, when in nocturnal silence, he 
Seeks intercourse with that Intelligence 
Who is from everlasting, and who w ill 
To everlasting ages yet remain. 
And when Truth comes for converse here with me. 
On things ineffable; come thou. Seek too; 
And thou, too often canst not seek, the grave 
Society of chaste Reflection. Though 
Her deeply penetrating eye, at times 
Is shrouded with the dew of sadness, and 
Her speech may sometimes savor of reproof; 
Her words are fraught with usefulness — her soul 
Is near allied to mine. Thus, as thy years 

256 POEMS. 

Shall multiply, thy nature shall expand; 
And when old Age shall place his coronet, 
Stamp'd with the burnish'd seal of Honor, on 
Your head; the heav'ns in approbativeness, 
Will send me down, with thee again to share 
Those kindred ties of close affinity. 
Which held us in relationship before. 

And even now, amid the recklessness 
Of your unpractis'd, young, and scanty years; 
Through humble supplication, fervently 
Prefer'd to yonder throne invisible; 
You may call down my presence. I will spread 
A halo luminous around thy feet. 
And breathe rich music to your inmost soul." 

She said no more: but with a sweetly bland, 
And sisterlv affection; printed on 
The cheek of each, a tender parting kiss, 
And took her upward flight. 

With mutual looks 
That told too well, a tale of deep regret. 
The brothers cast a farewell, ling'ring look 
At the departing Seraph; then arose. 
And cours'd their homeward way; and as 
They went, Experience serenaded thus: 

Richer than the pearls which ocean 
Treasures in its ample bed; 

Is each cherish'd, sweet emotion, 
Wisdom gently deigns to shed. 

POEMS. 257 

Wisdom has no false attraction — 
Pure and spotless is her soul; 

When she stimulates to action, 
Hers is no usurp'd control. 

Onward, Time! thy chariot hasten — 
Let the scenes of life awake : 

When their keen corrosives chasten 
Me, I'll smile, for Wisdom's sake. 

Welcome Age: I'll hail our union 
As a point replete with gain. 

If thro' thee, a full communion, 
I with Wisdom, shall obtain. 

Bind thy wreath about my temples- 
Place thy signet on my brow — 

On my cheek, thy furrow-dimples. 
Plant, where blood is coursing now 

If she loves the hoary headed, 
Let me be what Wisdom loves: 

Let my nature all be wedded 
To whatever she approves. 

By her heav'nly precepts guided — 
With her counsel for my shield: 

All my efforts, undivided, 
Shall for Truth, the falchion wield. 




Contents.— TTie hall of Preoudice—A conversation— Consterna- 
tion enters and announces the progress of Truth, etc.— 
Sundry measures proposed for the support of Error— The 
Convention appoints Deceit to devise measures^ and adjourns 
for his deliberation— Is reassembled, and the plans divulged, 
which are applauded by a motion for immediate execution — 
The Convention dissolves -The care of Stupidity for Error— 
A description of him— Description of his wife, Content— She 
commences a Sonnet— Error'' s approval —She concludes the 

In the grand, spacious hall of Prejudice, 
Built in that olden form of architect, 
The Tuscan order, of anterior date, 
A caucus was convened: and, speeches there 
Of senatorian length — spun out, with skill 
Congressional; reverberating roll'd 
Their wordy force along the marble walls. 

Opinions in a sanguine torrent flow'd, 
While arguments, unutter'd and unform'd 
With crude, contingent cogitations, groan'd 
For utterance: while thoughts compres'd revolved 
Like fever'd madness, 'round the throbbing brain. 
When lo! a messenger in fearful haste, 
(A haste betok'ning evil tidings borne;) 
With wild, distorted features, and with hair 
Dishevel'd recklessly upon the breeze; 
Was seen approaching; and anon, unask'd 
And with a rude, unceremonious step. 
Abruptly mingled in the Council hall. 


" This honorable body will excuse 
(Said Consternation, while the looks of all 
Bespoke anxiety the most intense) 
This interruption : I'm expressly sent 
By Disappointment, to announce to you, 
Altho' unwelcome be the news; what has 
Of late transpir'd upon the borders of 
This province." 

Superstition, who had been 
By vote called to the presidency of 
That sitting Council; bade the messenger 
Proceed. " There's been a mighty falling off 
Along the borders of your wide domain. 
Increasing still — the dread contagion of 
Apostacy is spreading far and wide — 
Like fires in Autumn, that have broken loose 
Upon the meadow, when its herbage, scath'd 
With nightly frosts, is of its verdure shorn ; 
Threat'ning depopulation to the realm 
Where Prejudice presides. Huge multitudes, 
By flight precipitate, adhere to Truth, 
And gather 'round the standard he has rais'd 
In opposition to your noble prince. 
The royal, high born Error. Error will 
Be left without supporters, if perchance, 
The grooving mischief cannot be subdued. 

The blast which Falsehood's fruitful forge propel'd, 
Is now producing a reaction, rife 
With more of evil than of good to us : 

260 POEMS. 

For through the influence of its thundering noise, 
So long and loud; Investigation has 
Been fiercely rous'd, and all his faculties 
Exerted, which, of course, preponderate 
Against ourselves; and he is now abroad; 
And with his presence fascination seems 
Most firmly and inseparably wove; 
And to his person delegates a pow'r, 
That predisposes to the side of Truth." 

When Consternation's narrative was done, 
A deep'ning groan thro' the assembly mov'd; 
And sombre clouds, like morning mists that hide 
The distant landscape from the view, bespread 
O'er ev'ry phiz except the laughing brow 
Of wild Enthusiasm. Her recklessness 
Drew from old Superstition's rigid soul, 
A sharp rebuke. 

Deeply encompass'd with 
That kind of sanctimonious dignity 
Which silence' spell creates— prof usely clad 
In his imperial and undiminish'd robe, 
The honor 'd Error sat. Old Prejudice, 
With stern indignity, appear'd to scorn 
A shade of sorrow. But poor Ign'rance' heart. 
Of other texture — cast in softer mould— 
Yearn'd, as a mother's heart is wont to yearn 
O'er helpless imbecility. Her tears. 
In close succession, chas'd each other down 
Her placid cheek. 

POEMS. 261 

Thus for a long, long space, 
The Council sat; while o'er a motley crowd 
Of feelings, and a wild variety 
Of thoughts, that gather'd into huddled heaps, 
A murky silence brooded: Till at length, 
The stable-soul'd Tradition — sage with years. 
Whose steadfast and undeviating mind 
Had never felt a change: arose, and thus 
Addressed the waiting audience. 

"My friends. 
Let not the unattested fol de rol, 
Which you this day have heard, occasion you 
Too much alarm. The recent efforts which 
Stern Bigotry, coercing Falsehood, made; 
I ivas and still am ivell aware, are such 
As Folly and young Indiscretion would 

Our cause is everlasting, for 
'Tis bas'd upon those changeless principles 
Which I inculcate — principles, which like 
My nature, are immovable; and as 
My nature, free from innovation; and 
Needs not those voUies of redundant means 
That have enlisted you their senices. 

Why should the lovely face of nature be 
Distorted, and our sunny skies obscur'd, 
And the soft spicy gales that gently dance 
Upon the lucid atmosphere, be put 
In such intolerable rage, and wild 


Commotion, by the foul and madd'ning blast, 
Which emanates from Falsehood's dark recess? 
My single arm is all sufficient to 
Perpetuate this kingdom and insure 
Endless duration to our regency." 

Old Party-zeal, who, like a tremor, sat 
Beneath Tradition's speech — his sightless balls, 
Like spheres disorganiz'd, that burst the bounds 
Prefix'd by nature to define their course. 
And lawlessly emerge abroad; roll'd round 
With vagrant motion; while his bony limbs 
Shook tremulously, by the phrenzy of 
His deep impassioned spirit, thus arous'd 
To tones impetuous; hastily arose, 
And clos'd Tradition's brief oration, with 
The fevid introduction of his own. 

" I claim your audience. My soul is stir'd 
Within me, that this honorable hall 
Should be saluted, and its echoing base, 
And speaking columns, forc'd to iterate 
With such laconic, dull, dispassionate 
Harangues, in an emergency like this. 
Pshaw! who could think your august presence would 
Be call'd to witness propositions, such 
As have been laid before you? What! Shall we. 
At this important juncture in affairs. 
Dispense with Falsehood's most efficient skill? 
We might as well relinquish Error'sself, 
As silence such promoters of his cause. 


As Falsehood, Slander, Calumny, Abuse, 

Deceit and Ignorance and Prejudice, 

With all our royal line of royalties; 

Relying solely on the agency 

Of old Tradition. Not that I intend 

To underrate his services. I know 

They have been, and are still of great account. 

His precepts are most honorably firm; 

And he is like a stately pillar in 

This commonwealth: he stands unmoved, amid 

The fiercest blast — he's able to repel 

E'en Truth himself, in single combat join'd; 

But now, too formidable are our foes — 

By far too numerous — they are too much 

Control'd by wise Investigation, to 

Be foil'd without our concentrated force. 

Then surely, let us summons ev'ry one 
That wears the crest of Lucifer, and is 
By him commissioned to perform in war. 

Let Bigotry arouse and stand at helm, 
To nerve the arm of Falsehood to put forth 
Redoubled blasts. Let Persecution draw 
His crimson'd bow, and all ye Furies, rise — 
Without delay, perform your midnight works! 
Spare not the face of nature — heed it not 
Though sunny skies and balmy gales, and all 
The silken joys of sweet repose, are doom'd 
To be annihilated by your tread — 
Push on— the end will sanctify the means — 
Bepcnv^r your right — let force the right decide." 


Thus Party-zeal clos'd up the fervor of 
The warm effusion of his heated brain. 
His speech was follow'd by a clam'rous shout 
Of joy. Enthusiasm was frantical, 
But Superstition call'd for order; and 
It was propos'd that measures for defense, 
And measures of aggression too, such as 
Would suit exigences; should be prescrib'd. 

The Council mov'd — 'tAvas seconded and pass'd. 
"That, as Deceit had signaliz'd himself 
In desp'rate cases heretofore; that he 
Devise such plans of operation as 
His judgment shall direct, to govern us 
In future— plans of operation to 
Secure ourselves, and overthrow the pow'r 
Of Truth." 

The Council then adjourn'd until 
Deceit had leisurely applied his thoughts 
To schemes — to ruminations intricate: 
And when he fixed his eye upon the point. 
That seem'd to grasp the grand accomplishment 
Of what he wish'd; he drew his purpose forth, 
With all the ease and all the recklessness. 
That masters of the little art draw out 
From its entanglements, the " puzzling chain." 

His plans matured — the Council re-convened ; 
And he deliberately spread them forth ; 
In matter and in manner following: " 

*' Error must be again committed to 

POEMS. 265 

The oversight of old Stupidity; 

Tliat Prejudice and Ignorance may go 

Abroad, to do their handy work — to wrap 

Their sombre veils about the senses; thus 

To shackle Intellect, and fix a bolt 

Upon proud Understanding's citadel; 

E'en tliough Sincerity, her azure seal 

May place indubitably on the heart. 

Thus will they hold beyond the reach of Truth, 

Each intellectual organ; and close up 

The avenues of Common-sense, and spread 

A net, to meet and baflle all the skill 

Of bold Investigation. 

Falsehood, then, 
May pour his smoking, burning lava forth 
Without reserve, and fill the 'itching ears.' 

This measure will secure our strength : and then 
Means must be put in progress, to subdue 
The pow'r of Truth and his adherents. 

Our haughty Pride take Envy, his belov'd. 
With all their children, Avarice and Hate, 
And their huge brother Jealousy, whose eyes 
Of green and livid hue, protrude beyond 
Their own digressing orbits— and Distrust, 
And Selfishness; and let them also take 
Their whole domestic retinue — a host 
Of valitudinarians, that feed. 
And feast themselves at others' cost. And then 


266 POEMS. 

To grace their num'rous train, aud to perfect 

Their work; a priest or priestess must go forth 

With them; for vain is all the influence 

Exerted yet; without the sacred garb 

Of piety. Dissimulation wears, 

Wi.h easy grace, the sacerdotal gown: 

He prays like Abel, and performs like Cain: 

Therefore let him be duly authoriz'd 

To act in holy things — and let him join 

Himself unto the kindred, household band 

Of Pride and Envy. Let them colonize 

In yonder province — in the very heart 

Of that dense population. 

Stilly as 
The breath of midnight softly glides upon 
The wings of darkness; imperceptibly 
They'll undermine the solid basement of 
Herculean Union, who maintains, within 
His hold, the massy keys of God-like strength. 

His mansion shaken— Union will depart; 
And ere pale Envy's infant Discord shall 
Arrive to manhood's height, he will maintain. 
By dint of firm possession, for his own 
Inheritance, and at his own behest; 
A rich estate, beneath the busy eye 
Of tall Inquiry." 

When the speaker clos'd; 
As subterranean gases — long confin'd. 
Ignited, burst with a tremendous roar; 
So rang the shout of approbation, through 

POEMS. 267 

That spacious hall. E'en Superstition spoke 
His warm approval to the plans propos'd; 
And he eonfess'd Deceit had usher'd forth 
An effigy of Wisdom— not his own. 

But the squint-eyed Suspicion watch 'd Deceit, 
And saw him turn and laugh in sececy, 
While to himself, he mutter'd rhapsodies 
Of sly intent. 

The Council then proposed 
A forthwith execution of the schemes 
Just laid before it: And without delay, 
With buoyant hearts, the splendid colonists 
Took their departure for the sphere assign'd 
To them. 

The vehicle of Fashion, too, 
Was call'd in requisition; and the steed • 

Of Popularity, caparison'd 
With gaudy strings of shining ornaments — 
With nimble feet, and nostrils snuffing air; 
Was harness'd to the waiting vehicle: 
And Prejudice and Ignorance, anon 
Were mounted there. The sage Tradition sat 
Lowly in front, and grasp'd the gorgeous reins; 
Whea swift as eagle s on the lucid air, 
With eager haste their plumy pinions ply; 
Smoothly and swiftly roll'd the chariot on. 
And bath'd its glitt'ring wheels, in golden beams. 

The caucus rising, separated; and 
Stupidity, with most dispassionate 

268 POEMS. 

Composure, then address'cl himself to the 
Requir'd attendance on his precious charge. 

There's nothing moves upon affection's cord 
With softer touch, or in a heart that beats 
With sensitive emotion; wakens more 
Of unaffected tenderness, than the 
Lone watch o'er sleeping, helpless innocence. 
Stupidity, to cradle nurs'ries rear'd; 
Had watch'd o'er Error's earliest infancy; 
And all the warmth his passive nature knew, 
Had been from time to time arous'd, until 
His own existence seem'd itself, to be 
With Error's being, intricately join'd. 

But then. Stupidity was not alone 
Without a mate — he had his "better half" — 
His dear Content — the partner he had wooed 
In early boyhood. Though she was of birth 
More noble than himself; and might have grac'd 
A higher walk — have rank'd with royalty, 
And smil'd where princely lords affect to smile 
By her consent: and though she might have dwelt 
With her twin-sister, the deep-soul'd Content, 
The fair and noble form that ever dwells 
Affectionately in the blest abode 
Of Usefulness and Virtue; she had deign'd 
To be his own; and in the evenness 
Of his career, forego the envied height 
That crowns the halls of bright Activity. 

And ever since their first espousal, she 


Adheres to him, with all the constancy 
Of love effeminate. 

With her sweet voice — 
So near allied to silence, that its strains 
Scarce urg'd a motion, tremulous, on air: 
She, singing thus, caress'd his hours away. 


Error has a charm to bless — 

Error's presence we possess; 

Dearer far, than Happiness, 

Is Stupidity. 

All Enjoyment's boasted reign, 
Is but a reprieve from pain; 
And she crowns the broad domain 
Of Stupidity. 

Ours, are joys that come unbought 

With the coin of tedious thought — 

Pleasures flow, unask'd, unsought, 

Through Stupidity. 

Each emotion of the breast — 
Ev'ry passion, lull'd to rest: 
With unconscious ease impres'd, 
Is Stupidity. 

Get you hence — ye works of Art, 
With the treasures you impart — 
Let me press me to the heart 
Of Stupidity. 


Let Refinement come not here — 
Nor Intelligence draw near 
To the sphere — the blessed sphere 
Of Stupidity. 

He is faithful to his trust — 
Books may moulder — tools may rust — 
All Improvement lick the dust, 
With Stupidity. 

O Stupidity, my Love: 
Thou art gentle as the dove— 
None but Error ranks above 

Thee, Stupidity. 

Thus sang Content; while on his downy mat, 
At Error's feet, her spouse reclining lay — 
Breathless and motionless, lest lucklessly, 
Her strains so sweet, and so congenial to 
His feelings, might perchance, escape his ear. 
As they were gliding froin her gentle tongue. 

Error was pleas'd: He smil'd, and bowing down 
To catch the ling'ring echo of the strain 
That died away; as nature's pulses die. 
Amid the melting, sultry noon -day heat 
Of a hot summer's sun; he slyly pres'd 
A stealthy kiss upon the dimpled cheek 
Of the dispassionately fond Content. 

Encourag'd by the condescension of 
A being thus rever'd: with louder tones, 

POEMS. 271 

She clos'd the music of her minstrelsy. 
List to the strain: 

Error's foes will not prevail: 
All the pow'rs of Truth will fail, 
If he treads within the pale 
Of Stupidity. 

Should Investigation roam 
Here; he'll be but ill at home; 
Let him not essay to come 

Near Stupidity. 

Prejudice and Ignorance 
Will environ Common-sense, 
And secure the strong defence 
Of Stupidity. 

Then, O Error, let thy breast 
Be with sweet repose imprest: 
Multitudes, with thee, will rest, 
Great Stupidity. 

272 POEMS. 


CoNTEKTS.— TAe friendu of Truth are convened to discuss sub- 
jects interesting to Mm and his cau^e— Investigation returns 
from an excursion — He conducts Discernment and Intelli 
gence into the edifice where IVutft is seated in audience — 
Ixiys the package of Intelligence mi the table— After various 
discussions, Experience makes a speech, containing instruc- 
tions for their future benefit— Truth suggests the immediate 
supplanting of the colmiy of Pride, recently planted in their 
midst, try t?ie friends of Error— The Poem concludes with the 
Ode of Genius to Truth. 

The friends of Truth, were congregated in 
A spacious edifice, that nobly rear'd 
Its tow'ring disk, beside tlie mountain, where 
Truth's banner wav'd; to hear and to be heard, 
In deep discussions, long and intricate; 
Involving thoughts elaborately turn'd 
Upon the nature, origin, and the 
Grand destination of immortal Truth; 
While his own self presided. 

His pure mind 
Was so securely fortified against 
That vanity of feeling, and of thought. 
That reigns inherent in the human heart; 
That he could sit in judgment, and decide 
Upon the merits of discussions, when 
His merits were discuss'd. Inquiry, too. 
Was present; and his consort Knowledge, sat 


With close attention, silent by his side. 
Thought freely was exchang'd; and sentiments 
Of richest texture, liberally were, 
From num'rous fountains, flowing in a stream 
Of unaffecte'd reciprocity. 

From an excursion, which had been pei-form'd 
With much of honor to himself, and some 
Advantage to the onward cause of Truth; 
Investigation had return'd: but scarce 
Had leisure time to rest himself from the 
Dull weight of weariness, and to regale 
His appetite upon the viands which 
Economy had plac'd before him;" ere 
Discernment, who had been by Truth employ 'd 
To watch events as they transpir'd abroad; 
Return'd, and with her, came Intelligence, 
Her 'faithful escort. When 'an interview. 
Between them and Investigation, had 
Ensued; Investigation rose, and with 
A hasty step; conducted them to the 
Saloon, where Truth was'then in audience 
Deliberately seated — where the voice 
Of bland Experience, with eloquence. 
Replete with learning's master music; hush'd 
To sleep, the god of Silence: He awoke. 
And Silence rose to pay respectfully 
His most appropriate addresses to 
Investigation; whose hale i3resence drew, 
From all his friends, a liberal respect: 
And consequently, from his enemies. 


A cold, repulsive, deferential awe, 
The nearest kin to Hate. 

The greetings o'er — 
Investigation spread the package of 
Intelligence upon the table, and 
Announc'd the circumstances that occur'd 
Beneath the influence of motions pass'd, 
And resolutions put in practice, in 
The Council Hall of Prejudice, and were 
Discover'd thro' Discernment's optic-glass. 

The hostile movements, which were going on, 
Requir'd the most efficient means applied 
By Perseverance' firm, untiring hand. 

Experience, who had of late, increas'd 
In stature, as in years; and frequently 
Free converse held with Wisdom; was requir'd 
To say what he opined would most conduce 
To public benefit. He then arose, 
And thus address'd the waiting audience; 

"Most worthy friends, let not your hearts despond 
By reason of the articles contain'd 
In the last bundle of Intelligence. 

'Midst all the tumults and commotions — 'midst 
The storms of war that on our borders rage 
Most rudely and relentle?-sly; it seems 
That Fortune, though she frowns on us at times; 
In the event, will ever potently 
Incline her balance in our favor. Hosts 

POEMS. 275 

Of immigrants continually flow 

From yonder vale, to share the blessings of 

Our pure, salubrious, heav'nly climate. Much, 

Investigation, by his arduous toils. 

Thro' Perseverance' genial aid; has done 

In our behalf. But let us not relax 

Our efforts, short of the accomplishment 

Of what should be accomplish'd: Let us not 

Fall short of the entire attainment of 

The highest point that is attainable. 

Since Prejudice and Ignorance are bent 
To use their utmost influence, they must 
Be met by strength and skill commensurate. 
They are our great antagonists: for by 
Their pow'r and their unceasing diligence, 
All other foes of ours, now draw support. 

Error will reign — and reign so long as he, 
By the deep hidden strength of Prejudice 
And Ignoi'ance, shall be upheld. Each dart 
That's aim'd at him, falls light and harmlessly— 
By him unheeded and unfelt; while thus 
By them he is sustain'd. Therefore, arise, 
Investigation, and once more go forth 
With your beloved Candor: Go, and chase 
Them from our borders— drive them home 
Into their secret lurking-place, and smite 
Them there. Then, like a mountain, undermin'd, 
The mighty Error will come tumbling down; 
And make the nations tremble with his fall. 

But to precede those all important deeds. 

Inquiry must display his tactic skill 

In the destruction of that false Content, 

Around whose fairy-shapen image, twine 

The very heart strings of Stupidity; 

And on whose music's sweet, delusiye sound, 

His life's dull pulses move unconsciously. 

Let her be stricken from existence, and 
The charm, by which she holds him, be destroy'd; 
And he will mount the morning mist, and fly. 
Like an autumnal, wither'd leaf, away 
Into Oblivion's dusky vale, and, seek, 
In that recess, where my great name-sake finds 
His chosen residence; a resting place. 

Then will long sleeping Intellect arouse, 
And concentrating her awaken'd pow'rs; 
Will aid the wise Investigation, in 
The consummation of his sacred work. 

'Tis an important business, and cannot 
Be done in darkness: therefore, thou, O Truth, 
Must give thy sanction— yes, and more than that— 
Thou must go with us, and dispense the light 
Which radiates from thy glowing countenance; 
To shield us from the dark, disguis'd attacks 
Of midnight's foul assassins. 

Say, O Truth, 
Shall we thus aid Investigation? Shall 
We all be colleagues in this enterprise? 
Appro vest thou the scheme I have prescrib'd? " 

Experience gracefully resum'd his seat, 
And ev'ry eye was tiirn'd inquiringly, 
Upon the face of Truth, whose features glow'd 
With full expressioii. 

" What Experience has 
Express'd," said he, "I fully sanction; but 
There's one consideration, which I would 

That colonizing company, 
Consisting of the family of Pride 
And his attendants; which Discernment saw 
Prepar'd for a location in our midst, 
To undermine our Union; now requires 
Our prompt — our first attention. Let us then 
Be on th' alert, and intercept them, ere 
They, for themselves, a foothold shall secure. 
'Tis easier, much, to give a rolling stone, 
A retrogading motion, than to raise 
It from its planted, moss-grown resting place. 

Then let us rise with Union, for to rise 
With Union, is to rise with strength: and thus. 
Expel those innovations from us; ere 
They shall obtain the right of residence 
For what avails all foreign conquest, when 
An enemy is lurking in our midst — 
Preying upon domestic quietude: 
And through our vital part, the heart of Peace, 
Diffuses fest'ring seeds of rottenness? 

We'll join, and drive those renegadoes hence; 


That when Investigation's vict'ry's won, 
And all in triumph shall return; fair Peace, 
With smiles will wave her gentle wand, to bid 
TJs welcome; and with music's holiest strain, 
Transfer her diadem, to crown our home." 

Truth closed his speech: A universal nod, 
Betok'ning approbation, mov'd around 
Through the assembly. 

Genius propos'd 
To grace their separation with an Ode 
To Truth: and chanted thus, the parting lay. 


I'll sing to thee, O Truth. Thy laws are giv'n 
For my directory o'er earth and heav'n: 
I sing of thee — I prize thy presence more 
Than all the gifts from Learning's richest store: 
I sing thy praises — thou art all, to me — 
I crave no pow'r, but what I draw from thee. 

Eternal beauties in thy features glow, 
And from thy lips, eternal fountains flow: 
Let the pure lustre of thy radiant eye. 
Beam tliro' my soul, and lift my nature high: 
The master-strokes that on my pulses roll. 
Are but the emanations of thy soul. 

Let the fierce tigress chide her churlish brood- 
Monster on monster, vent its spiteful mood: 


Let crawling reptiles of the reptile school, 
Chastise offenders of their puny rule: 
Let insects feel the weight of insects' paw, 
For the transgression of an insect-law: 
But Truth, thy advocates shall not descend 
To sordid means, thy honor to defend: 
And thou, O Truth, wilt not ignobly bend 
To servile measures, for a noble end. 

Should lofty Genius strike a feeble string? 
No: in thy presence, Truth, of Truth I'll sing. 
Thou art the basis of each worthy theme: 
Thou art the lustre of each golden beam: 
Wide as eternity, diffuse thy light, 
Till joyous day shall burst the shades of night: 
Benighted Earth illumine with thy rays — 
The slumb'ring nations waken with thy blaze. 

In Falsehood's stream, let Error bathe his soul, 
And Slander bend to Envy's base control: 
Be thou, O Truth, rhy arbiter and guide: 
Beneath thy standard, let my feet abide: 
Let thy celestial Banner be unfurl' d, 
Until Its crescent circumscribes the world: 
On Hope's high pinion, write thy burnish'd name, 
And plant thy signet on the spire of Fame. 

Go forth, and conquer: All to thee shall bow. 
And fadeless laurels Wreath thy noble brow: 
The palm of Vict'ry waits to crown thy war — 
The seal of Triumph, lingers not afar. 

280 POEMS. 

"Victorious Truth, thy conq'ring sceptre wield, 
Till all thy foes in due submission yield — 
Until Inquiry spreads himself abroad, 
And Knowledge smiles to his instinctive nod- 
Till Party-zeal is shrouded with disgrace, 
And Superstition hides his lengthen'd face — 
Till old Stupidity is forc'd to fly- 
Till Ignorance and Prejudice shall die — 
Till pompous Error, vanquish'd, licks the dust, 
And princely Falsehood, fires his smoking bust; 
Then, shall thy fiat hold the world in awe. 
While ev'ry Isle exults to hear thy law: 
Strong, as Omnipotence, thy arm shall prove, 
And as Eternal as the throne above. 



[The death of President Brigham Young occurred on the 
2^th of Aug. 1877, two months after the foregoing 
Manuscript was sent to Bress.'] 

That morning da%ynecl as bright and beautiful 
As morning ever dawned. The sun rose clear. 
The day was glorious; but Zion wept! 
The sound of grief w'as heard in all her courts! 
The Church had lost a Guide: Humanity, 
An able Advocate — Mankind, a Friend. 

* * !S iS * * ^ ' ' ' 

From morn till morn, the body lay in state 
And thousands came, a tribute of respect 
To pay, and take a last — a parting view 
Of the illustrious dead. 

The funeral rites 
Were on the Sabbath day. At service hour, 
The spacious Tabernacle densely filled, 
Was thronged by anxious multitudes without: 
Within, one vacant Chair remained 
Enrobed in folds of solemn drapery! 

The "Tenth Ward Band" commenced the services — 
The Choir and Organ sweetly sang and played; 


282 POEMS. 

But his, the most appreciative ear, 
No longer listened. 

Decked with pure white flowers, 
Hallow 'd with tear-drops from the eyes of those 
Whose skilful hands, prompted by loving hearts. 
In wreaths entwined them; there the coffin stood. 
Encasing the cold form of him, who'd been 
Attraction's centre; and the cheering voice 
Which had, for years, with winning eloquence, 
The power to draw, command and rivet the 
Attention of an audience, was still! 
And naourning sat on every countenance, 
As though the lights of earth had all gone out, 
And left a calm— an all pervading calm. 

But men of God were there— men who had "borne 
With him, the heat and burden of the day." 
Apostles, Prophets, Revelators, Seers, 
Brave, noble men, whose hearts had never quailed: 
Who knew no fear Avhen times were perilous. 
But now, when speaking of their leader's worth — 
Their love for him — their loss, and Zion's loss; 
The firm lip quiver'd, and the dew of grief, 
Beneath their eye-lids gather'd. Strong men wept! 

But when their thoughts reached upward and the 
Of the Almighty's Spirit beamed upon 
Their sorrowing hearts, in God-like majesty 
They rose, superior to the mournful scene. 

They knew the work that Brigham Young, so long. 
With master mind and skill had pioneered. 


POEMS. 283 

Was God's — that He, his servants, heretofore. 
Had clothed with power and wisdom, and He now 
Would others clothe upon, and bear them otf 

Then the bold eloquence 
Of truth, when crowned with might and majesty, 
Flowed from their lips to that vast audience. 
And the bright rainbow of immortal life. 
Appeared in beauty o'er the cloud of grief; 
And rays of joy ineffable, beamed forth. 
Electrified by influence divine, 
Wrapped in the future, men forgot to weep. 

* iij » «- * * 

The Tabernacle service closed — Anon 
The grand procession formed in order, and 
Moved slowly onward to the waiting tomb. 

All Israel were mourners; but the corse 
Was followed by a num'rous weeping train 
Of those, by dear and filial ties, his oivn. 

Their hearts were stricken, sad, and desolate. 
As they moved slowly to the burial 
Of him, the husband — father — friend, and all 
Of mortal trust — the guardian of then- lives; 
Whose presence formed the sunshine of their hearts. 
]Se'er was a father more affectionate 
Nor yet an earthly father more beloved. 

Tho\igh he was full of years, their fond hopes gave 
Them ^omise of his life for years to come. 
But death came suddenly, and suddenly 
To them their earthly aims became a blank? 

284 POEMS. 

Tliey felt as all bereft— that all was gone! 

It seemed to them, the wheels of Time stood still, 

And every pulse of Nature ceased to move. 

On, slowly on, the great procession moved 
To the repository of the dead — 
A site reserved on his own premises 
Where kindred dust is sleeping side by side: 
There, in a new, a pure white sepulchre, 
The coflan, with its precious charge, was placed. 

The "Glee Club" stood beside the tomb, and sang 
A favorite hymn of the departed one. 
Then an Apostle knelt: In fervent prayer 
He dedicated to the Lord our God, 
And, for the safe, and undisturbed repose 
Of all, now sleeping — all that there shall sleep; 
The sepulchre— the coffin and its sacred trust— 
The ground, and its enclosure 'round about. 

There sleeps the weary flesh, and rests in peace. 
While he, the master spirit of the age. 
Associates with tje first great leader of 
This Dispensation, in the courts above. 

He loved his people — Their high destiny 
WiU be a monument to BRIGHAM YOUNG. 


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